Phenomenon
by LeatherLeaf
Summary: Continuation of FATE- Adult Themes, Action, Sci-Fi, Romance, THIS IS IT! The fourth and final story in the series, Staring DONATELLO. It all comes together here! Donnatello is taken and forced to help his captors in order to keep his family safe. He loses a lot, but is it worth what he gains in the end? *read Miracles, Destiny and Fate 1st for full enjoyment. I LOVE TMNT!
1. The Waking

I encourage you to read MIRACLES, DETINY and FATE, in that order before reading this. Unless you're just a Donnie fan and love you some DonnieFic! So here it is. The fourth and final story in this TMNT Love Collection. But I hope you've noticed that these stories are so much more than our favorite turtles finding love. It really does all come together here. Your words of encouragement and critique are very important to me. I am uploading the first three chapters now. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

I DO OWN my OCs... there are a few.

I DO NOT OWN TMNT, but I love them forever!

And now... PHENOMENON

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The first thing I remember is the pain; throbbing pain emerging from behind my eyes, pooling at the back of my head and dripping down over my neck and shoulders. I breathe into it; endure it, allowing my splayed thoughts to gather. I don't open my eyes, though I can sense darkness. I then hear a low hum beyond the walls around me, a mechanical murmur generating from somewhere. I feel the cold, hard surface under my chin and knees and fingertips. I inhale deeply and slowly, realizing I no longer smell the still, subterranean dampness of the Lair. I feel the faint circulation of dry, sterile air waft over my pebbly skin. The pain, temperature, sound and smell culminate in my growing consciousness. I stiffen slightly, now fully aware that I am not where I am supposed to be. I don't move. Someone may be watching. This leads me to ask myself_, how did I get here?_

The second thing I remember is that there had been men in the Lair. There'd been three men that entered. They were armed and geared up and, I suppose, looking for us. And Leo was there. We'd split up and hid and I'd waited for his signal to jump out and fight. And then there was a bright light.

I can barely hide my awakened state as I jerk my shoulders. I gasp; my head throbs. The next thing I remember is Leonardo. Despite the pain I open my eyes. They bulge in the darkness of this strange room as I recall what happened next.

Once Leo and I had separated and hid, I could easily monitor the three Lair intruders' movements from my second-story perch. The men quietly spread through our home, searching for us. I looked around and tracked Leo's heat signature near the entrance of the dojo. My muscles tensed when one of the men's lights almost flashed over Leo's arm. The stocky man guarded the front door, the tall man headed for the living room area, and the short man headed toward the dojo. I saw Leo nod slightly, signaling to me that it was time to strike when suddenly a bright light filled the whole area. I turned off my goggles, trying to adjust to the blinding beam seeming to shoot out of my brother's hand. I saw Leo kick the short man through the thin paper of the dojo doors. The bright light followed him.

"The scepter." I whispered. Shaking myself free from the growing knot in my stomach, I leapt over the railing and knocked the tall man to the floor with a swift swing of my Bo and kicked his weapon away. I lunged at the stocky man, keeping him from entering the dojo by locking his hands and neck with my wooden staff. I twisted him back and slammed him against a wall. He rolled to his knees and leveled his gun, aiming at me, but an impossible torrent of wind pushed around us. He fell over in the mess of papers and debris and I dove, trying to make it to the dojo, to Leo as fast as I could. Three things I saw turned by blood cold as I crawled through the threshold of the dojo doors: the short man sprawled on the ground, impaled through the chest by one of our old practicing spears, his shaking hands pointing a gun at my brother, and my brother, not being able to let go of the magical staff. Wind and blue lightning turned the scene into chaos as Leo's form got sucked into the glowing scepter while three gunshots were fired.

In the millisecond of blackness time stopped, the bullets stopped. I thought I screamed my brother's name but I'm not sure. Then the bright light returned and another being descended from the scepter. There was a loud boom of thunder then complete blackness. I heard the short man stop breathing. I reactivated my goggles and looked around. The person standing in my brother's place cried out. I saw him drop the scepter and cling to the bullet wounds in his chest. It did not register at the time, but I also heard the scepter crash to the ground, glass breaking and sand spilling. The man dropped to the ground soon after. He was wailing and gasping for air. I scrambled over to him, pulling at his collar.

"Who are you?" I whispered. "Who are you!" I demanded in Japanese.

The man's mouth squirmed. He was going into shock from the displacement and the wounds and, of course, being interrogated in pitch blackness. But I didn't care. I needed answers and fast. I needed to know where my brother was taken. I jerked at his collar once more. "What is your name?!"

"H-Haruto…" he exhaled and died.

I shook him. I shook him again. "No…" Tears quickly welled up in my goggles. The magic scepter was shattered and the man who replaced my brother was dead. "Leo… Leo…" I let Haruto's body lie flat beside me. I believe I would have stayed there mourning my sudden loss for longer than I should have, if I hadn't heard the clicking of a gun.

"Don't move!" A gruff voice ordered from behind me.

I didn't hesitate as I sprinted to my right and threw myself through the thin, fiber wall of the dojo. If I could make it across the room I could escape through the secret passage under Master Splinter's bed. Both, the stocky man and tall man, were calling out to me but I did not take heed. I just needed to make it past the steps, just flip over the staircase and …

That is when something sunk into the back of my neck. The hot liquid sped through my veins and I fell over the bottom step. My nerves beat in pain, my focus was fogging up. I pulled off my goggles and bandana trying to release the pressure and preserve my sight. Another sting flashed over my shoulders. I hit the concrete hard, becoming totally incapacitated.

The last thing I remember was the stocky man praising the tall man on his marksmanship. Then everything went black.

…

Recalling these events make me feel like my body is sinking into the cold floor I now find myself upon. Did all this happen a day ago, a week? It doesn't matter. Only one thing matters to me now. I curl up on my side. And though crying makes my headache worse I can't stop the tears from falling. I can't stop mouthing my brother's name. Even I couldn't have dreamt up this kind of horror, so it all must be true. I had seen my oldest brother get whisked away to 'God knows when and where', never to return. The scepter is broken and the man… Haruto… who dropped in his place is dead. How was I going to explain this to my family? Would I ever get the chance to? This isn't fair. Just when things were coming together in our lives, this had to happen! We were going to leave the underground life for good. We were going to be happy, no longer surviving, but actually living! We were going to be happy but now…

I don't know what these people want and I don't care.

I'm becoming much too sore to stay awake in this position. I guess it's time to dispel the façade for whoever may be watching. I slowly lift my hand over my face and wiped the wetness away. I pushed myself back across the floor until my shell taps against a solid wall. I achingly lean up against it. I exhale and blink, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I have to get a hold of myself. If I am to survive this, unpleasant situation, I have to think smart. I must! I WILL see my family again! I will save my mourning and my troubled feelings when I have my family again.

Ok brain; let's go over the things I know. Checking the status of my physical body, I am neither injured nor restrained. But I am totally naked and unarmed. My bandana, pads, belt and Bo are gone. Aside from the receding pain in my head, I am fine. I am definitely being held in some sort of secured facility. Looking around I see… I see a small sliver of light coming from under, what I assume to be, a door. Above, and to the right of the door, in the corner, there is a tiny another thin line of light pulsing along the wall. Judging by the light from outside the door, the position of the blinking line and where I am sitting on the floor, I surmise that I am in a nine foot cubed room, windowless and unfurnished…and I am being monitored. So, who is monitoring me? There were three men sent to our Lair. They didn't seem like they were connected to the Foot and they were too organized to be Purple Dragons. Those enemies have been vanquished almost a decade ago. I remember the stocky one had a radio and was taking orders from a 'Sir'. They must have known about us, or at least, known about something odd living in the sewer. But why did they show up then?

Ok brain; let's go over what I don't know. I don't know the day or the hour. I do not know how far from home I am. And I do not know what my captors know about me. It may be best not to give them anymore information about myself than I have to. I'm not sure if they know I can speak or reason, unless they were monitoring my actions in the Lair as well. I'll hide my intellect for now. I need them to assume as much as possible so I can have some kind of upper hand… This could be a brilliant strategy or a foolish waste of time. All I have are assumptions at this point. At least I didn't wake up on an operating table. I think it's safe to say that is my most reoccurring fear; to be captured and strapped to some crazy doctor's shell-separating machine. I have to keep reminding myself that not everyone who discovers me and my mutant brothers wants to dissect us. I hope this is the case right now.

I assume since I have been physically alert for little more than five minutes my captors are making plans to intercept me. Would the same men who attacked the Lair storm in and shoot sleeping darts at me? Would an ominous voice greet me through some unseen speaker? Would a television screen light up on a wall, revealing the 'Sir' of this operation? I hope something happens soon, or my thoughts will make me start pacing and I don't want 'them' seeing me ponder.

Just then two white squares light up on the far wall, about three feet from the floor and a foot apart from each other. The screen on the left reveals a dark silhouette of a person's head and shoulders. The screen on the right remains blank.

"G-log 030313, Tau specimen, codename Kashikoi Kame, Session 1, Initial Communication, recoding." They say. The voice is distorted. I have no idea the age or gender of the person. This seems very top secret. And really corny to me. To be truthful, I tend to lean toward cynicism so I don't succumb to the fear I actually feel. I wait for them to continue. "Good Day. My name is Dr. G. Do you understand me?"

I don't respond.

"Watashi wa Dr. G. desu." They say in Japanese. Their inflections are way off. My gut feeling is that they chose to speak in Japanese because I did so in the Lair when trying to get information from the dying Haruto. _Oh, well, they know I can speak._

But I'm not responding just yet.

"The sooner you cooperate the sooner we can move on Kashikoi Kame."

_Smart Turtle? Really? That's their codename for me? How original_. I roll my eyes and the person on screen snickers. _Crap_.

"Did I say something ridiculous? I know you can understand me. Although I am obscured from you I can see every twitch of your face very well. Again, if you cooperate and tell me what I need to know then things can progress much faster."

It's a stale mate.

The silhouette onscreen turns their head to the side and nods. I hear a small voice say 'Yes Sir.' "Very well, Kame. I can sense that you don't mind taking the long road. Already, I have found something I like about you. You are not so easily deterred… Let us try to chat again tomorrow."

Both screens go dim and I am once again alone. I think it's pretty damn rude to ask me questions when my 'host' won't even reveal themselves. All I have is a name, Dr. G… hardly a name at all. And someone called them 'Sir.' Could he be the same one who ordered the ambush of the Lair? I sigh and stretch my feet out across the cool floor.

I hear pistons exert and the door, I correctly assumed it to be, rises and disappears into the ceiling. The light from outside floods my small chamber and I squint my eyes. I grow tense against the wall, waiting for someone to come to the door. I wait another minute and my eyes adjust to the light. I look out from where I'm sitting and see a white wall. I sit there another five minutes and no one comes inside. I try to keep my emotions neutral. Showing boredom or impatience in my face or demeanor could give my captors the hint of me thinking and waiting. I have to act, well, dumb and animalistic, for now.

I cautiously creep toward the door on my knuckles and haunches. With my shoulders hunched over I set the ridge of my nose out of the door and sniff the air. Of course I don't sense anything new, just trying to play the part. I stretch out into the light of the hallway and look left, nothing but a wall. I'm at the end of the hall. I look right and see down a long corridor. In the ceiling there are small round lights tucked in every three feet or so. I suppress my tendency to shrug and purse my lips. I head down the hall.

The walls, ceiling and floor are stark white. The only other attribute is a continuous silver strip where the wall meets the ceiling. There are tiny white lights in the strip, I suppose, some type of hi-tech video surveillance. A small hiss catches my attention and I look back to see the door to my cell slide down and close, disappearing in to the wall seamlessly. As I continue down the hall I realize I could be walking past many doors, but I can't see them.

I slowly amble along, going left, right, up and down, in no particular order and, I'm getting the hint, to no particular destination. I'm putting together a mental map and it comes to my attention that I am somehow going in circles. I come to another corner and stop. I sit a minute and begin to chew on my thumb nail. I bite it off and spit it to the floor, then continue walking. Taking a right, I go up some stairs, weave through the hall, winding through in a serpentine pattern, go down and flight of stairs turn left and so on. The halls are still white and brightly lit and the strip of surveillance tape keeps trailing the wall. Fifteen minutes later I see the tiny pale-olive chip of my discarded fingernail lying on the floor. I knew my theory was correct. I almost hesitated but moved past, trying to show I had not noticed my captors' little game.

I walk down the hall and come to an open door. There are two doors beside each other inside the room. The door I come in closes behind me. A screen in between the doors light up with a simple math problem: 1+2. The door on the left has a 4 appear on it, the door on the right has a 3.

I can't believe this.

I have three options. Play Dr. G.'s game and successfully pass all tests, play dumb and fail miserably enough to where they let me go, or I can talk to them now and avoid this debasement of my intelligence…

I hobble over to the door with the '3'. It opens and I go inside. The next set of doors test reads '2x2' I choose the door with a '4' and walk through. The next set of doors serves me with a pattern test, the kind found on children's CATexams. Slowly the doors become more difficult, but nothing I can't handle. Soon I get to divide fractions, solve for X… I haven't seen the 'Pythagorean theorem' since I was eight. After about ten doors the questions finally get more challenging. I'm surprised at how diverse the questions are, nothing pertaining to one subject or another. I come to the twentieth door and I'm actually enjoying myself. I'm wondering what would happen if I choose the wrong door. I walk in and find myself standing with three doors in front of me. The question reads 'Who do you save?' Door one: a child, door two: the woman you love, door three: your brother.

A morality question… a question of sacrifice… is this just to torture me? I guess the real question is why do I choose one over the other? I immediately want to save my brother, given my most recent loss. I'd do anything to get him back. But that choice is a biased one. I'm saving him so I and my family don't lose him. But maybe my choice would be different if I did have someone in my life to love. I know this question would be harder for Raph or Mikey. If I had a woman I love, would I choose them over a brother? That would be the most selfish choice. I think the right choice would be to save the child. The choice is pretty nondescript; do I know the child, is it my child? I don't think so. I should save the child because they represent hope for the future, not just so that I can feel better personally. Yes. I will save the child. I walk up to the first door. But I just can't go through. It's the wrong answer. The question was 'who do you save?' not 'who should you save?' I head to the third door and walk through. The door closes and I am in pitch black.

The lights come up and I'm in a white hallway again, a door to my left is opening. I peek inside. I think I am correct in assuming this is my original cell. My sense of direction is somewhat reliable. I crouch, not wanting to go inside. It's still dark in there. A light turns on in the room, showing a straw mat on the floor and a bowl of water and a saucer of food. Once the light comes to full luminosity the hallway lights go out completely. Not wanting to be in the darkness, I step inside and the door immediately slides down behind me.

_What in the hell was the point of all this?_ I try really hard not to look peeved about being treated like a rat in a maze as I scoot over and inspect the food given me; water of course, and a plate of raw kale, a sliced, red tomato, celery sticks and… three large water beetles. I can't help to give my imaginary audience the 'side-eye'. My brothers and I had not had to live off of insects since our pre-mutated years. I'm guessing. Maybe if we didn't come from a pet shop, our diet would be similar to what is spread before me now. Just noticing my hunger, I still decide it best to not just leave the beetles uneaten. I bow my head and palm a celery stick. The fresh, fragrant crunch takes the staleness out of my mouth and I suddenly feel ten times better. I leave the rest of the celery, scoop up the kale and tomato and partake in the corner, away from the dead bugs. I'm not a fan of the bitter leaves but they have more nutritional value than the celery… the tomato is delicious. I hurriedly finish my portion. I pick up the bowl and down the cool water.

The lights dim and I stretch out on the straw mat. It's itchy but better than the hard floor. Not realizing how exhausted I am I swiftly fall asleep.

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**A/N: What do you think so far? What has Donnie gotten himself into? A lot... a whole lot. REVIEW AND READ ON PLEASE! Ty**


	2. The Transition

_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,  
To cast me off discourteously.  
For I have loved you well and long,  
Delighting in your company._

_Green Sleeves was all my joy_  
_Green Sleeves was my delight,_  
_Green Sleeves was my heart of gold,_  
_And who but my Lady Green Sleeves_.

I awake with a jolt. I was just caught off-guard. Was I just humming "Green Sleeves" in my sleep? Did Dr. G. hear me? Quite possibly. I sigh harshly as the music fades away from unseen speakers. The lights in my cell are still dim; the two square screens brighten up the wall again. The same shadowed person appears on the left, the right screen is still blank.

"G-log 030413, Tau specimen, codename Kashikoi Kame, Session 2, Assessment Review 1, recoding… Good morning Kashikoi Kame. Did you enjoy your meal; did you have a good rest? Did you like the wake-up song I chose for you?" Even though their voice is morphed, I hear slight warmth and smile in the words.

I do not respond.

"You can probably tell by now that I am in no way disappointed at your performance yesterday. Your analysis and deduction, problem solving, reasoning, complex strategies… your sentience is crystal clear. I don't think you were challenged a bit. I truly believe that you are the one I've been searching for."

I raise my brows slightly and turn away from the screens. _Who does this weirdo think they are? I'm so sick of this. _

"I am so impressed that I wouldn't mind testing you again with one of my more complex labyrinths and see how smart you really are… but that would waste more time. Are you ready to speak with me now… or should we try this all over again?"

It sounds as if Dr. G. wouldn't mind either decision I make. But I've found I don't have any other choice. I don't want to give them the satisfaction… but I want to go home. I lick my lips. "Who are you, what do you want and how can I get home?" I stare directly at the shadowed face, my own expression grim.

They look at me a moment longer and they seem to nod at me. "One thing I pride myself on, Kame, is that I tell the truth. I will discard this theatrical charade and meet with you directly. But you must consent to answer a few questions before I can permit an audience."

I purse my lips and run my tongue over my teeth. I then clench my teeth in disgust… I need a toothbrush!

"Very well." I mumble.

"First question." They jump right in. "Can you tell me who this is?"

The blank screen to the right darkens and refocuses, showing an image of a dead man. They are naked and their bottom half is covered with a sheet. His skin is a pale gray and there are three bullet wounds in the upper torso.

"He said his name was Haruto." I look away.

"Do you know this man?"

"No."

"Do you know how he got there?"

I swallowed hard and a chill went down my shell. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I only ask for the truth." They say.

"He was…transported there."

"How?"

_That's the question of questions isn't it?_ "You may find the truth hard to believe."

"Does it have something to do with this?"

I look at the screen to the right and the image of the scepter flashes into view. It's in pieces. My head feels heavy and I cover my face to hide my quivering chin.

"I see." The doctor says softly. "What does this object do?"

I turn away from the screens. "It doesn't do anything now. It doesn't matter what it used to do. It's not going to bring him back…"

"Bring who back?"

That's too tough of a question to answer right now. So I opt for the easier one. "That… object… is the remains of what used to be a 'magic' scepter. It was a royal Japanese family heirloom passed down countless generations. Its origin of energy is unknown and the interval on which it's active is inconclusive. My guess is a seven-point-five year cycle with a window of approximately sixty hours. I've only seen it work twice, only experienced it once. It won't work unless two people in two different points of time are holding it. And even then, the two individuals have to be of equal mass. It requires an extremely precise 'formula' for the event of time transfer to occur." I let my words fall out of my mouth so quickly and numbly.

"Equal mass displacement… So Haruto came here from a different time, from the past, taking someone's place here, from the present."

"Not just someone." I spit at them.

The doctor took a moment before speaking. "I have more questions… When my men neutralized you…"

"Captured me." I corrected them.

"You were wearing what seemed to be battle gear and weaponry… you know how to fight? Judging by the Bo you handled and the others we've monitored later, you are a ninja?

"You monitored others?" I gasp.

"Yes." They say. "Before we left we planted a small vid-strip at the front door. A few hours later, two armed mutant turtles and a human female came in looking for you. They didn't stay long… The woman left after retrieving a long piece of material."

My bandana.

Michelangelo, Raphael, and, I'm guessing, Amber. They must be going crazy with questions. They probably think we're dead. I shake my head, disgusted even more.

"We tagged them back to a bookstore in Brooklyn. We know who they are now. Everyone you're connected to." The screen shows candid photos of everyone: April, Casey, Arimi, Even an aerial view of Splinter in his rooftop garden. "We, of course, don't have images of you ninja turtles, but we know there are four of you."

_There are three of us now, you bastard. _

"Is there anything else you want to know? Because I want nothing to do with your cryptic operation, unless you're trying to threaten me with their lives."

"I do not intent to threaten anyone's life, not even yours. My intent is to save lives… with you assistance."

"Why am I here?" I ask exasperatingly.

"To help." They simply say. "Thank you for answering my questions. Now I will do the same for you…I do request that you not attempt an escape. No one will hurt you here. I ask that you show the same courtesy."

I look at the screen, readily confuse.

"Please, you are welcome to use the lavatory and partake of some breakfast. We will meet after you're refreshed."

The screens on the wall disappear, the lights go out and the door to my cell slides up into the ceiling.

I look out into the hall and another door is open across the way. I peek my head out; all clear. I stand up straight and stretch my limbs fully. I walk out, and into the room across the hall… it's a large bathroom. The walls and floors are gray cement: the toilet, shower stall and sink are formed out of the walls, one structure. I look around the ceiling and notice there is no silver surveillance strip in here. I visit each station in privacy ending at the sink. There is no mirror, but a sunken shelf with a toothbrush still in its new plastic package and a small tube of toothpaste. I overload the bristles with the blue paste and allow the suds to linger in my freshening mouth until it stings. I feel much better. The door I had come in closed and concealed itself in the wall when I had walked through it about twenty minutes ago. So now I'm standing in a box, wondering how to tell someone that I'm finished. I place the toothbrush back on the shelf and a new door, on the opposite side of the bathroom lifts up, showing a small hallway and a long staircase.

I walk out and see three articles of material hanging from hooks; a towel, drawstring sweatpants, and a… well, I'm not immediately sure what it is. The material is dark heather gray, just like the pants. It has two sleeves, a v-neck collar, a front part… but there is no back to the shirt. Along the edge of the sides is clear sticky tape on the inside.

…Okay…

I put the 'shirt' on like an apron and smooth the sticky tape to the contours of where my plastron meets the sides of my shell as well as behind my shoulders. It feels… different. I pull up the sweatpants, realizing the bottom also stick and conforms to the edge of my carapace. I wish I had a mirror. _Who had the time and ingenuity to make these clothes for me?_

I slowly make my way up the stairs and down a long hall. At the end of the hall there is an open doorway. Standing outside of the doorway are two men dressed in plain black jumpsuits. They are armed. I stop midstride and wonder if I should run back down the stairs to… what? The bathroom?

"Don't be shy now!" The stocky one calls out to me. The tall one just smiles.

"I was told I was going to meet the doctor." I call back.

"You are. But breakfast first." Stocky says.

"C'mon then! We can't chow until you do." The tall man complains in a thick British accent. As he swings the tip of his weapon to urge me forward, Stocky jabs him in the ribs.

"Nothing lethal here, Kame." Stocky says gruffly. "Not my preference, but we follow orders."

I shift my eyes between the two men and walk toward them. I settle my eyes on their fingers resting flat beside their triggers. I finally meet them at the threshold. Something tells me that these are the same men who ambushed Leo and me in the Lair… however many days ago. The men look me over with scrutiny, as one picking out produce at a farmer's market.

"Definitely not like the other ones. He's got a calmness to him the other's ain't got." The tall Brit says.

"We'll see if it's just playing possum." Stocky says…judgingly. He looks me from behind his shades and frowns. "We were told to give you our names so…the name's Carder. I'll be part of your escort as long as you're here with us." He says to me. Carder would seem like he's a hundred pounds overweight if you just saw his shadow. But he's actually built like a rock, neck as thick as a brick and arms like sewer pipes. He's got to be in his late forties, sunburned, and has a long, salt and pepper ponytail going down his back. He doesn't have an accent; I'm assuming he's American. He's three inches shorter than I, but his confidence could intimidate a mountain.

"And I'm Gleiv." He smiles. Gleiv is heads and shoulders taller than I… and he's all limbs. He's younger than Carder, maybe closer to my age. He has cropped, groomed, black locks mopped all over his head. His face is thin, with a bushy goatee, thick brows and copper-colored eyes resting on high cheek bones… He does not look British. "Means a great deal to meet you peacefully after all this. Heard a lot about you." Gleiv says.

"Heard from who?" I ask.

"We weren't ordered to answer questions." Carder cut in. "Let's move. It's chow time. Gleiv, leave the way. I'll take the rear behind Kame."

If they think they know who I am, I wish they'd use my name, or at least give me a chance to offer it. I follow Gleiv out of the large vestibule down one of three visible hallways.

"Escorting Kame to mess hall. ETA, four minutes, Sir." Carder reports into his shouldered radio.

"Are Dr G. and Sir the same person?" I ask after about thirty seconds. I guess I don't except a response. I tend to ask questions aloud to myself… and answer them as well. It's how I always process things. Another thing I'm questioning is why, if this building is so big, are there no elevators? We turn a corner and walk straight into a dead end… Gleiv lifts his palm up to the wall and says, "Turnip Tuesday." And the door lifts up and we walk in. It's much dimmer in this stair well. We walk down grated steps and land on a cement floor. We come into a large, wide area. There are glass-walled holding cells, about twelve of them, on either side of us. In most of the cells are, what seem to be, regular, if widely arrayed, animals. To my left I see an iguana and a wolf; to my right I see a porcupine and a bat. And in the last cell I see an alligator. Its cell has claw marks over the walls and impenetrable glass, the door of the cell is bent and there are tattered pieces of cloth beneath the sleeping reptile. Something's gnawing at the back of my head but I'm afraid to come to any conclusions.

_Why would the doctor allow me to see this?_

We walk up another pair of stairs, turn a few corners and go through more secured doors. Gleiv holds out his palm says "Wallaby Wednesday, Thurgood Thursday and Foxtrot Friday" to open each new locked entryway. It seems to be more and more impossible to see any way of escape. We climb up a wide, white stair case and turn a room with plain metal tables and chairs. Carder and Gleiv rush past me and grab plates, bowls and utensils and help themselves at a small steaming bar. The smell of sugary syrup and fatty pork fills my nostrils and my stomach cramps up.

"You'd better catch up, Gov." Gleiv yells at me from over his shoulder. "Carder don't eat the carbs, so if you want Pancakes AND bacon you'd best not be shy." I watch as the Brit fills his bowl with buttery grits and his plate with scrambled eggs, pancakes, and sausage. I wait until the men take their meal and sit at the table closest to the bar before I grab my own plate. Everything looks homemade and piping hot. I take two pancakes, the last piece of bacon and… oh, no eggs. I cut my eye over at Carder who helped himself to a whole bowl of eggs. I decide to be grateful for at least this much and I walk past the men to a table in the corner of the room. They go back into their plates once I sit down.

As I finish the last of my small stack an elderly, jolly-looking woman comes in from the, I assume, kitchen, carrying a tray to the bar. "Last call on eggs!" She chirps.

"I'll take some!" I say, not thinking.

The woman turns her head in my direction, peering though her thick spectacles to get clear look at me. Her eyes grow wide and her thin line of a mouth drops open. I wonder if she's going to scream, run, or just keel over. Instead she balances the tray on the edge of the bar, and places a hand over one round hip. "Then you'd better get yourself over here and put some on your plate. This isn't a diner and I'm too old to be anyone's flirtatious waitress, m'dear."

I blink and immediately stand. I walk over with my barren plate. I come beside her and remove the empty tray in the bar and she replaces it with a fluffy batch of eggs. She takes the empty tray from my hands and I heap a large scoop of eggs onto my plate. "Thanks ma'am. These look great."

_I can't believe I'm talking to a little old lady._

She grins and stretches her neck back to look me in the eye. "Sure, sure." She says in a light Irish accent. "But call me Devin. And you'd be?"

"My name's Donatello." I say.

"Donatello. What a clever name, although a bit of a mouthful." She chides.

"Donnie is fine."

She nods and turns toward the kitchen. "Then Donnie it is. Try not to be late for lunch m'dear." She chuckles a bit and disappears through the swinging doors.

I take another pancake and sit back down to finish my meal. I look around and notice that the most important thing is missing from this breakfast. "I wonder if there's coffee…" I say aloud to myself.

"No coffee. Only good ol' tea and juice for now. Machine is broken. Should be fixed soon." Gleiv says through mouthfuls of sausage.

_Ugh!_ Well isn't that serendipitous… If it's not broken at home, it's broken here at Scotland Yard… or wherever I am. I'm so craving coffee right now; I'm apt to tell them I'll fix it in five minutes flat. But Carder and Gleiv get up and toss their trash and walk over to me. I gobble the last of my eggs and swallow hard. I guess it's time to finally meet the boss.

…

**A/N: Wonder who the boss could be? Please leave comments… Also the song at the beginning of the chapter is Green Sleeves (poss. Henry VIII of England, 1500's.) **


	3. The Doctor

Carder and Gleiv escort me to a small white room. A metal table and two chair are the only furniture inside. They ask me to sit in the chair closest to the door. I look back at them and they take guard at either side of the still open door. I look around and see lights in the ceiling and that silver Sensi-strip along the wall. I don't wait long until I hear clicking feet coming down the hall. Soon those feet enter the room. Carder and Gleiv greet them with a "Good morning, doctor." and "Good morning, sir."

They come around the table and I finally come face to face with the one responsible for my being here.

She's beautiful.

As I watch the woman acknowledge the guards with a slight smile and nod, she sits in the chair opposite me and places a thick, black folder on the table. Her hazel eyes meet my brown I feel a shudder go through me. I'm almost taken aback at how young she is, younger than I. She's wearing a white lab coat opened at the bottom to reveal a tan skirt that comes just above her knees Her hair is auburn, cut short at the back and on sides. Her slightly longer hair on the top is gelled upward in soft spikes giving the style a modern look. Her lips are slightly colored with a tint of red and her skin is pale, as if she never goes out into the sun. Her demeanor and expression exude intelligence but there is also a hint of excitement as she smiles a bit too wide and speaks into the air. "G-log 030513, Tau specimen, codename Kashikoi Kame, Session 3, Initial Contact 01, recoding." A Russian accent. "Good morning. I hope you enjoyed your shower and breakfast. Devin is a wonderful cook… those clothes fit you well."

I almost say. 'Thank you, the shower was hot and refreshing and the food was delicious and Devin is delightful and I love the clothes and what wonderful weather we're having today.' But I immediately turn away her charm and bring my current situation to the forefront. Besides, there was no coffee!

"Who are you, where am I and what do you want with me?" I say flatly.

She sits back, slides her folded hands off the table and hides them in her lap, clearly deflated. "My name is Dr. Gavnikov… and you are Donatello Hamato, Hamato Donatello, to be exact… am I right?"

I nod.

_Gavnikov… where have I heard that name before?_

"As to where you are and why you are here, those are two sides of the same coin. Allow me to answer your questions with a story, one that begins before you and I were born."

I exhale and nod again.

Thirty years ago, a young English bio-geneticist traveled to Moscow for a science enthusiasts' conference to speak about his findings on improving and strengthening positive traits in human DNA. His research was so in-depth that he claimed to have concocted an almost finished working model. He called it, Protagen. Most attendees were skeptical of the young doctor, few were amused… but one was frightfully intrigued. A Russian pharmaceutical company owner named Umen had persuaded the bio-geneticist to head his genetics center in New York. What the young doctor didn't know was that Umen had wanted to control the rights to Protagen and make sure it never passed FDA requirements."

"Why would Umen hire the doctor, only to restrain the progress of Protagen?" I ask, not realizing how fascinated I am with her story so far.

Her hazel eyes look down, the corners of her lips curl, and she taps a pen against the metal table. I tend to do the same thing when I have to reveal an ugly truth to my brothers. She asks. "Why would a pharmaceutical company want to develop a drug that cured people, enhanced humanity?"

Answering a question with a question, I catch where she is going. "They wouldn't." I say. "Those companies make drugs that numb, stabilize, or slow the affects of the ailing condition. After all, there's no money in curing anything. So… how did the doctor allow Umen to sweep his project under the rug?"

"Tabitha."

I lift my brow and wait for her to go on.

"Tabitha was Umen's younger sister and partner-in-crime. She was beautiful, bright and beguiling. She spied for Umen and stole the doctor's heart while sabotaging his work. Every time the doctor got close to a breakthrough, Tabitha would change a molecule or delete one or two lines in the script and then…"

"The whole equation would crumble." I finish. All of this is amazing but I can tell she is leading up to something even bigger. I glance once again at the black folder on the table. She sees my eyes land on the object and slides it over to me. Here it comes.

"Umen was a brilliant man as well." She continues.

I turn the folder correctly in front of me and open it, thumbing through the scores of pages. I read aloud each label. "Multiple Sclerosis… Schizophrenia … Downs Syndrome… Alzheimer's?!" I look up at her, mouth agape. "These aren't what I think they are."

"They are. Umen found vaccines for all of those, all diseases dealing with brain degeneration. The accompanying diagrams are codes of DNA. Umen's version of Protagen works by arranging and rearranging DNA and exponentially multiplying to not only cure the diseases, but permanently erase them from the individual's genes forever. If that individual has offspring, only healthy genes will be transferred."

"My God!" I gasp. I don't mean to interrupt but… _my God, this is all impossibly amazing._ I nod for her to go on.

"Umen had found a practically identical formula to the doctor's Protagen a decade prior and modified it to compliment each specific disease listed here." She stands and leans over the table toward me. Her id card dangles from the pocket of her white jacket. _Dr. S. Gavnikov… Gavnikov… I can't recall why that name is so familiar._ I follow her finger as it runs across one of the drawings. It is a slender digit and its groomed nail shines with clear polish. "Umen would complete each vaccine and then omit a key equation in the formula. He left these vaccines incomplete so that no one could have them. He would have his pharmaceutical company make a lame drug they could sell instead. He intended to keep the profits coming in for a very long time."

I shake my head. "You speak of him in past tense… what happened to him?"

"He's dead. Tabitha killed him... yes, his very own sister." She adds, seeing how my face contorts. She sits back down and sighs heavily. "His plan was to keep his company going until he retired… then he would destroy his company and his competition by announcing to the world his cures. He and his lawyers drew up a 'one thousand year patent' so that no generic vaccines could be produced at a lower price. He planned on selling the vaccines for $500,000 a dose so that only the rich could benefit. He was not a good man. He would not give anything away for free. Tabitha thought Umen planted her to keep the young doctor from stealing from the company and controlling his research. She had no idea what her brother had done or what he planned on doing. Once Tabitha learned the truth of her brother's gluttony for money and power she stabbed Umen in the neck with a syringe and watched as her brother turned into a primordial puddle of ooze."

"Wait, wait wait!" Once I hear her say 'ooze' alarms go off in my head. I put up my hands and wave her to stop her storytelling and get to the point. "Ok, Dr. Gavnikov, time for the big reveal." I lean back in my chair and cross my arms, trying to not be phased by her words but also bracing myself for what is coming. "How do you know all of this, how are you connected, why do you care, and how do my family and I fit into all of this?"

She looks down again at her pen and fails to hide her smile. She must have the pen so she has something to do with her hands. I don't think she's planning on writing anything. I can tell that she likes knowing things others do not, like me. I also notice she likes telling what she knows and watch the reaction of those who listen, also like me. She reclines, rests an elbow on the back of her chair and crosses her legs, looking much more nonchalant. The issue must be bigger than what I expect. The more casual she attempts to look, the more smug her expression becomes. If it wasn't for her kidnapping me and stopping me from saving my brother, I might have liked her… and indulged in her image, reminding me of a quiet fantasy of mine.

She exhales and looks me right in the eye. "Promise not to interrupt." I nod and she begins. "Tabitha Gavnikov was my mother. She and the English bio-geneticist had a small love affair which resulted in me. Of course that means that Umen was my uncle… His corporation owned the small company in New York under the name TGRI, which was headed by Professor Jordan Perry. Yes, Jordan was my father. Because of my mother's interference with Jordan's Protagen project, he finally gave up and was forced to eliminate the toxic chemicals known as Mutagen, which I assume you are keenly aware of. Once his project ended, my mother was forced to leave the country. She did love Jordan but Umen threatened to have her deported and Jordan killed. She had no choice but to leave him and move back to Moscow, where she had me. My parents, being who they were, primed me to love science and my mother put me in the best schools. I graduated early and studied neuro-science at university. I hadn't known my father, but my mother often spoke of him, more so once she became sick. At some point my mother must have contacted Jordan and told him about me because a week after she died, he came to Russia and claimed me as his daughter. I was fourteen at the time… I moved to England with him and I eagerly learned everything he had to teach. That was ten years ago. I was fascinated with genetic engineering and micro-biology. I could never match his intellect though. It wasn't until he died six years ago that he gave me what I needed to complete his work… Yes, I am sorry, he is dead, heart stopped, very suddenly… he didn't suffer… I only knew him for a few years myself. I was more his protégé than his daughter in that time. I knew he loved me deeply by how much he poured into me, how much he invested in and entrusted to me… I inherited everything in his will. One particular document I received was an encrypted map and ledger, revealing the location of this very facility and a list of 'trusted' people I should contact."

She pulls out a sheet of paper from the back of the folder. There is a short list of names. "There are only a few people on staff here, all on this list; Carder and Gleiv, my go-to men for security and special operations, Devin McGaff, the cook and seamstress. She has many domestic skills, you should thank her for the clothes… There's also Troy, my assistant and Truth, the facility's technician. All report to me and believe in my and my father's endeavors. I had found all of those people, except one person..." She smiles at me.

I finally blink my eyes, feeling them sting away the dryness. "Me… he put me on your list?" I look down at the paper and, yes, my name at the very bottom; Hamato, Donatello, Location New York City, exact location, unknown, specifications, brain power.

She nods. "Yes, you. In studying his documents he credits you as the one who helped discover the Antigen. In his personal diary he stated that you were the most fascinating mind he had ever met." She pauses for a moment to allow this all to sink in. I appreciate it.

Antigen… Professor Perry and I made it to change two dangerous mutants, Tokka and Razar, a snapping turtle and wolf, back into their natural forms. What an exciting adventure! I give a small smile. I remember Professor Perry to be a skittishly brilliant man. I was fortunate to meet him. It was a pleasure to speak about such complex things and have someone to understand, or even challenge me, even if it was for a short time.

"I knew he had moved back to England but I had never known why. I'm sorry for your loss." My smile fades. _Why am I being kind to her? She's my captor!_

_I'm captivated._

She licks her lips. "I had no idea how to find you and only had a small suspicion that you were a mutant."

I notice how she ignores my condolences. Maybe she is beginning to feel some sort or remorse, and guilt, for the situation she's placed me in. She continues. "All I knew was that you were a teenage genius from New York who, by the aid of his three other brothers, rescued Jordan from some bad people. I didn't decide to pursue my search of you until I became curious of my daughter's online science tutor." She grins.

I squint my eyes at her insinuation. Then my eyes widen. _She must mean Anya! Of course_! I run a hand down my face. "Anya Gavnikov is your daughter. She's one of my international online students from England."

She nods.

"How did you make the connection?" I ask.

"I am the one that signed her up for an online tutor." She says a-matter-of-factly. "For as fast as she was developing, I needed to make sure she was getting the best education. I wasn't searching for you at first… But there was one particular session I listened in on that sounded strangely familiar… it was almost verbatim to how my father taught me, the way you explained DNA to Anya… that is when I setup my little investigation… That was about six months ago."

I smirk. "It took you a while to find me. I had been tutoring Anya for almost a year by then. Why did you wait so long to… pursue me?" I want to spit.

"Your computer's electronic address was encrypted and bounced off of twelve different countries' satellites… You've set up a very elaborate maze for anyone wishing to find you. You had no physical address or telephone number and you only took paypal payments. All I had was your name and subtle hints about where exactly in New York you were when you spoke with Anya. You also never consented to video chat, just audio. And what made me absolutely sure it was you were the drawing and tabloid paper clipping my father kept in the back of his journal."

"Paper clipping?" I ask.

She pulls out some folded pieces of paper from her side pocket and slides them over to me. I reach out and take them; willfully disregarding the sharp tingle I feel when my hand touches hers. I unfold the papers. "This is the night we won a big battle, accidentally barging into a warehouse dance club… Our father was, surprisingly, less angry than I expected about us being seen… and this… is a drawing of me. Dr. Perry drew this?"

"Yes, and he entitled it, simply, 'Donatello'." The drawing was etched in black pen. You can tell it was not done by an artist. The lines were scribbled and the eyes too far apart… but it was me, a younger version. I hand the papers back to her. "Once I put 'two and two together' I knew you weren't human. Besides, you are a fantastic teacher to Anya. I know a lot of smart people who know a lot of things but don't know how to communicate their ideas. You do wonderfully with her and she sings nothing but praises about you. She doesn't have a lot of friends; you were thousands of miles away from her and still left such an impression." She gives a little smile. I nod as I recall the Wednesday and Saturday evenings I've spent on the computer, finishing up the lesson and Anya wanting to talk about things unrelated to her studies. She would have so many questions and her logic and understanding would be uncanny. We would play online chess and other strategy games as well. I do enjoy speaking with the little girl.

But now I am confused about something. "This can't be right. Anya can't be your biological daughter. She's is ten years old, a brilliant ten year old, but still... And you couldn't be more than… twenty…" I fumble.

"I am twenty-four, twenty-five in June." She offers. "Actually, Anya is my step-sister, Jordan's daughter. I became her guardian and raised her as my own when he passed. Perhaps you will meet her someday." There's that smile again. I take a mental note. I never had inklings that the professor had been married, or even in a relationship, to have had a daughter. I wonder why he'd never mentioned this to me.

"Well, that covers my first two questions." I say, inviting her to continue.

"Why I care and what concern is it to you and your family…" She uncrosses her legs and folds her hands in her lap. She lowers her head and looks up at me, almost pouting, almost adorable. "I care because of what my mother died of. You've heard of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disorder…"

I appreciate her correctly assuming I have heard of the rare neurological disease, CJD, instead of asking me. I nod and she continues. "It claimed my mother's life when she was only fifty years old. It took her quickly. A month before she died, she was angry when she killed my uncle, Umen."

"Why was Tabitha angry enough at Umen to want to kill him?" I ask.

"Umen had discovered the cure for CJD. And he would not give his only sister the vaccine. When my mother found out Umen found the cure and wouldn't even want to heal his only sister, she realized what a money-hungry monster he really was. He controlled her and used her her entire life and she was going to pay the ultimate price for it."

The pit in my stomach grows. I'm thoroughly disgusted at this man. I rest my chin in my hand and look away to think. "So I'm guessing the concoction in the syringe Tabitha release into Umen was Antigen. That's why he molecularly separated into a 'puddle of ooze'."

"Her doctors mentioned that that's what she claimed had happened, but the hallucinations my mother had, along with other symptoms, narrowed down to her having CJD. And they never found Umen. He must have evaporated or sunk into the floor. Once tests were done, we found that the disease is hereditary and viciously aggressive. In my research I can surmise that my great-grandmother died of CJD at the age of seventy-two and my grandmother at fifty-seven." She stops and folds her hands over themselves. "The disease overcame its victims in my family line twenty-one years sooner in only two generations. That means I could start showing signs in as little as five years. If the disease evolves exponentially, it could already be turning my brain into a sponge." She says, joking minimally.

I get it now.

"You think, because I helped Professor Perry create Antigen, I have the capacity to reengineer it into Protagen and eradicate your CJD gene."

"I believe you can solve the key line of code Umen erased and complete it… You would save countless lives from many diseases and change the course of humanity."

"Your flaw in all of this is you hoping that I would give a damn about humanity, especially a 'human' like you." I say without thinking. I surprise her speechless. She knows I have more to say. "You do realize you had picked a hell of a day to go kidnapping? If I could have just gotten to him sooner… If I would have held onto him, my added mass would have negated the time transfer and Leo would have still been here with us where he belongs!" I bang my fists on the table. The metal clangs against the floor. She lifts her hands, signaling the guards at the door not to react. I barely acknowledge this as I go on. "What if I say no? Hell no? Would you quit this little 'double-O-seven' crap and let me go? You've wasted your time on me. I need to go home!"

She purses her lips and lays her hands flat on the table. She looks behind me at the guards and then at me. I am not going to like what she is about to say. "If you help me in finding the key to complete Protagen, you will be saving countless lives from a horrible death… and countless little girls from loosing their mother…"

My mind flashes imaginary images of a younger version of the doctor, hugging a faceless brunette woman, her mother. The mother disappears and the girl cries out in vain. And then I imagine the doctor holding hands with Anya, also a faceless child. I imagine her to have dark curly tendrils like her mother, actually older half-sister. And then Anya left all alone, and scared.

"Once you find the vaccine for CJD it should be more than easy for you to find a pattern and solve for the other diseases. I have no doubt that you could pass every test we throw at you, Hamato… But this is a test of morality, the sacrifice for the greater good. This involves you and your family more than you know. I knew you would be hiding, but I just didn't know where. I needed time to call my other trusted contacts and get a team together who knew how to detect anomalies within the regular grid of the New York City. And once we found it, we came to New York and waited for it to happen again. We detected the power surge and went in. We had to be careful. You are not the first mutant we've come across… You've seen the cages of random animals… those were once mutants. None of them passed the sentient tests as well as you. None of them made it as far as your have. They were always meant to be wild and free. You could be so much more. We will release them back into their natural habitat and tie up the loose ends."

"What loose ends?" I ask.

"My secondary agenda is to eradicate any connection of the ooze to the name of my father. Once TGRI crumbled, Jordan started the Perry Foundation in England to ensure that Protagen can become a reality someday. But the catalyst and structure of Protagen has always been Mutagen. Although few and far between, sightings of you and other mutants could one day lead to being captured by the wrong people. Then the tests and dissection would commence and the traces of Mutagen would lead right back to The Perry Foundation and we would never find the cure! The money will stop and the research will die. None of these vaccines will be completed... at least not by us and not in this century." She stands and pushes in her chair. Her eyes keep fluttering back and forth between me and her guards.

"I know you want to protect your family," She says. "But I want to protect mine as well. If you refuse to help me make Protagen then I will assume you to be a threat to the foundation and to humanity. I will have to cure you and your family with the Antigen and devolve you back to your natural states."

"What? How dare you…!" The guards are quickly on top of me, restraining my arms and pinning me back in my chair. It's not like I was going to hurt her! "We are not animals! Haven't I proved that to you already?"

"You ARE animals, transformed through human error. Your desire to stay in this mutated state was placed into your DNA made by Jordan, a human. You are my father's responsibility, now mine, and our potential downfall. Besides, this is ultimately not about proving anything to me. Sooner or later you will be exposed by the wrong people. Then who will be your ally? If you help me make the Protagen, no one would ever harm you or your family. You would be mankind's savior… my savior." She wraps her hands around the top of her chair.

I give a weak laugh. "People die everyday, Doctor. It's the nature of things. This Protagen sounds like a fantastic idea at face value, but maybe Umen had a point." She gasps but I ignore her. "In hindsight, if everyone took their free dose of Protagen, and no one died of these diseases, the whole world would succumb to over-population and we would all die of hunger or dehydration, or maybe some other unthinkable thing instead. There is no cure for greed, doctor." I smirk. "And as enticing as this offer you're giving me to work on a cure sounds, forgive me if I'm not jumping at the chance to save your life. Not after you prevented me from saving my own brother."

She closes her eyes and exhales. "There are no sufficient words I can say to apologize and no way can I atone for the ill-timing that led to loosing your brother. But you and I are both scientists…You cannot deny how horrifyingly perfect the odds are for it to happen the way it did..."

I bit the inside of my lip. As much as I chided myself for doing so, I'd done the math in my head countless times already. The statistics are so tremendous; it's as if Leo was supposed to leave us. I still didn't like it.

She walks around the table, out of my line of sight, Carder and Gleiv still holding me. She speaks from the door. "I only say this because I want you to know that I understand, somewhat, where you're coming from… Think about it. Deeply. We share the same world, Hamato. It doesn't matter that you were confined in the darkness and I was in the light. One cannot exist with out the other. You can stay apart of this world, help make it better, or you can choose the Antigen and forget about it all." She huffs a small laugh. "Honestly, I envy you a bit. None of this would matter, not fighting, not Mutagen, nor the human condition, to a simple little turtle…"

"Then why don't you take the first sip, Doctor?" I sneer.

"I don't have that option, Hamato… not yet. I still have purpose, and not just to my daughter, Anya... What is your purpose, Donatello?" I hear her heels click down the hall. "Take him to room S7. I think he'll find it more comfortable there."

The guards say. "Yes Sir." They usher me out of the door and down the opposite direction from where Dr. Gavnikov heels tap away around a corner.

It turns out to be a short walk from the interrogation room to my new quarters. Still, within this short time my mind is racing. My heart is beating hard and my jaw becomes sore from clenching. She has totally justified her imprisoning me for the greater good of humanity. Damn my freedom, my family and my brother. _She's the one with the family curse. This is not my problem!_

Carder and Gleiv guide me into an open door and my mental ranting subsides momentarily. This room is, indeed, much more comfortable than the cold small cell I first woke up in a few days ago. There is a large window, opposite my now descending and locking door. Sigh.

_Alone again, at least physically. _

I'm positive that the silver strip running along the parameter is transmitting sound and video. I turn my attention back to the window. Sure, it's a false window, more like a screen, but the artificial sunlight coming through lifts some of the heaviness off my shoulders I hadn't noticed I was carrying. I walk into the middle of the space… very utilitarian, muted colors on the simple furniture, a chair, table and lamp. But the single bed has two pillows so I guess I should be grateful. I turn left and head into the bathroom. Just like the one before, there are no Sensi-strips in here. So, the doctor's not a pervert. It doesn't outweigh everything else she's done. I sit in the dimness and think. I exhale sharply as I remember her asking me to 'think deeply'. If she'd 'thought deeply' this whole situation would have turned out differently. Instead of ambushing us like murderous criminals or rabid animals, she could have just knocked on our door. Cautious words would have gone back and forth but the point would have been laid out eventually. All she'd have had to do was mention Professor Jordan Perry and I would have at least listened to her.

"I would have." I whisper as I sit my elbows in my lap and face in my hands. And my anger starts to boil and my logic is quickly being steamed away. I wanted the darkness to swallow me. I didn't want to face whatever was coming. Not alone. Not without my family, my brothers. Not without Leo! Even if I survive this, there's nothing I can do to get him back. These damn tears won't stop.

_It's your fault. You lost your brother._

I know.

_The doctor and her men have nothing to do with your inability to be close to your brother when he needed you the most_.

I know!

_How will you face your family? How will you be able to look into your father's eyes and tell him, 'I lost your favorite son… ?'_

Oh, God...

_God has nothing to do with your sins. And even if you do decide to help the doctor, curing millions of humans will never bring you brother back._

I sob.

_If either of you had to be stranded in time, it should have been you__._

Is it because I have ingenuity and would be better equipped to manage than Leo would?

_No. It's because your family would still have a leader. Not left with you, an apprehensive know-it-all. The best of you is gone. _

I fall to the floor, upon the cool tile, crying miserably. "Father… I'm so sorry, father… I'm sorry."

Then I hear a low whisper. It startles me at first but then I just sit and listen. This voice is different from the vindictive one I was torturing myself with. This voice is warm and familiar. It's not coming from my head. It is coming from my heart.

Father?

"_Do what you have been, then do what you should, then do what you want." _

The words kept echoing, over and over. When it finally dissipates, an overwhelming sense of peace remains. "Master Splinter." My lips part. _He's connected with me. Does he know I'm alive? Does he already know bout Leo? _I stand to my feet and wipe the tears from my face. I step into the main living area and, feeling the light over my face I, go right into my katas. I stretch and kick and turn, elongating my muscles and enjoying the tension release from my tendons.

I must do what I have been, and then do what I should, and then I can do what I want. Well, all I've been doing so far is ask questions and cry about the answers. To be fair, I've been compliant and, for the most part, calm. I'll just stay cool and ask questions. Then I should make my decision as to whether or not I help the doctor make Protagen. Maybe I should. It's not my responsibility to take the future of my mutated family's free will into my hands. None of them would want to turn back into box turtles or a brown rat. Would we even realize what we had lost if we had take the Antigen? Like Dr. Gavnikov said, even Dr. Perry before her, we were accidents. An unplanned occurrence. A phenomenon. Does humanity live with their mistake of bringing us into their world, or do they make amends?

To hell with their mistakes, I want to live.

I spend the rest of the day in seclusion, refusing food and the company of the younger guard, Gleiv, who 'just wanted to talk'. I meditate on the floor until the faux window swells into a dark blue. I climb into bed and fall asleep.

...

**A/N: What the heck! That's a lot to throw at Donnie at one time, but I think he can handle it. I hope I'm right because more is coming his way. Do you guys remember Professor Jordan Perry From TMNT2? Which TMNT movie was your favorite?… Any comments?**


	4. The Mech & The Tech

I awake to the sound of pipes hitting the tiled floor of my bathroom. I almost think I'm back in the Lair. But then I hear a wrench cranking, water spraying and the muffled sound of someone cussing. I sit up and swing my legs over the bed. The glowing clock on the desk reads six am. My digital window is 'sleeping', displaying cool tones of blues and greens swirling about. A piece of metal rolls out of the bathroom and I watch it hit my toe.

A nut.

I pick it up and drag myself to the bathroom door; I see a pair of booted and jeaned legs sticking out of the wall next to the shower. I blink and step over the legs and sit on the toilet seat. I wait for the barrage of mumbling curses to subside.

"I think you dropped this nut." I say.

They yip. "Oh thanks!" She says in a thick Brooklyn accent and smoothly pushes herself out of the wall. She must be lying back on a roller board. She's wearing a large pair of old, oily overalls, work boots… and a lacy, black bra. She sits up on her elbows and reaches out a gloved hand toward me. "I'll take that nut, if you please."

_Good morning!_

I hand it to her. She lifts off her goggles and inspects it. Her eyes are blue and I notice her long, dirty-blonde braid of a ponytail is tucked happily between her bosoms. I can't really tell how old she is. She's pretty, but there's a matured hardness to her. "Yeah, this is it." She says and pulls herself back in the wall, cranking away.

I have to ask… since politeness seems to be beyond her understanding at the moment. "So I'm assuming you're the one who does maintenance. Are you Truth?"

"Yeah." She says.

"Then you're the one who's fixing the coffee machine?"

"Yeah, fixed already. Coffee's at breakfast." She's a bit short.

I was going to say 'thanks', but never mind. "Is there some pressing reason as to why you had to come fiddling in my pipes so early in the morning?"

She stops cranking long enough for me to hear her. "The hot water's too hot. If you'd have used the shower, the valve would have failed and youdda gotten burned. You ain't gonna turn into turtle soup while you're here. Not on my watch."

_I'm still not thanking you. _"And where is 'here' exactly?"

Truth pulls herself from out of the plumbing hutch and tightens the pipe one more notch. "Sorry, I…"

"Let me guess. You have orders from the doctor not to tell me. What does it matter if I know where I am? It's not like I can escape."

"It matters to someone." She says.

_Of course it does_. "Can I at least brush my teeth?"

"I'm done."

Without another word about it, I watch from over my toothbrush as Truth screws the faux wall back in place and collects her tools. She shoulders the long strap of her toolbox and looks at me looking at her. My face feels hot all of a sudden; I'd been watching her the whole time. I don't know what it is about her, how confidently she carries herself, her pouty, pink lips, how loudly she chews and pops her gum, how she's staring me down without any fear, or how well she handles her tools… or maybe it's just because I'm alone with a half-naked woman in my bathroom and this has never happened to me before. I'm more than a little intimidated.

I rinse my mouth and stand up straight. We're standing toe to toe.

She looks me up and down, as if doing a quick appraisal and smiles. "What's your name?"

It's about time you ask. "D-Don."

"Hmm." She hums. "You're really handsome, Don." She says.

I swallow. "You say this to all the mutant turtles you meet?"

"I've only met one before; saved me from a bunch of horny goons… he was too much of an ass for me to stick around and get any type of conversation outta him."

_I wonder who that could have been_.

I stiffen when she cups my face and runs her thumb over my cheek. She smiles at how obvious my comfort level has plummeted. "Cool it, turtle. I ain't gonna jump ya shell."

_Jump my shell?_

She slides past me, meaning to press every bit of her skin against mine, and heads toward the door of my quarters. "Besides, you ain't pretty enough for my taste. Enjoy your shower!" And she's gone.

_Holy pheromones, Batman! She's terrifying!_

I wait a moment until I'm satisfied with the silence. I take a quick shower, not even wanting the hot water and dry off. I open the slender closet and take out a pair of tan trousers and a cream thermal shirt. I pull up the shirt over my arms and secure the clear bands of material tape along my shoulder blades. These fit very well.

"I wish I had a mirror." I say and suddenly my 'window' screen comes to life and I see my reflection… Not bad. I step up close. The resolution is impeccable. It's strange. There must be a camera somewhere… it's not at the top of the frame. I lean forward and I spot a tiny black lens, no bigger that the head of a carpenter's nail, in the middle of the screen. It's just like me, to notice the tech before I do my own face.

_I look so much like him without my bandana._

I back away and decide to figure out how this screen works. "Show sunrise." The screen dims.

"Please be more specific." A smooth masculine voice says.

…Okay…

"Show a sunrise over New York city… with sound."

The tremor of traffic and whistles, and low rumbles of trains emerge through a surround sound of hidden speakers. The crisp lines of buildings glow with the warm amber of sunlight. The sun slowly peeks over black rooftops as the thin white clouds of smoke hit the stark contrast of a deep, red and blue sky. From this view, it looks like I'm in a 5th Avenue penthouse.

"Would you like me to set this as your default morning view?" The voice says.

_Wow_. "Sure." I say.

"Default morning view is set. Please specify time duration for your morning view."

"Uh, Six am to nine am?"

"Request acknowledged. Would you like to keep the default sound "New York City Morning One" or would you like to change?

"Change, please."

"Alright. I'll change the sound… Here are your options. You may choose up to three different genres or you can make a playlist."

The ultimate list of music scrolls onto the screen. There's classical, which branches out, categorizing every time period, Jazz, Rock, and Alternative, types from every country. There is even a 'Nature and City' sounds list from 'ocean waves', 'thunder storms' to 'Moroccan Marketplace'."

"Eighteenth Century Quartets." I'm definitely going to make a playlist later.

"Request Acknowledged. Please review your morning requests."

"I accept."

"Thank you. Would you like to personalize 'Afternoon' and 'Evening' Screen Time with me right now?"

"Yes." I am having way too much fun with this.

For the next half hour I customize my afternoon screen to sleep as a tropical fish tank, northern lights in the evening and to play anything from my favorite band "Imagine Dragons" whenever I'm in my quarters. The interface and fuzzy logic in this device is astounding. Then it hits me… my brother is stranded in the past and here I am, having a 'nerd-gasm' in the future.

"Computer… do you have a name?"

"My set name is Andrew. Would you like to give me another name?"

"No, Andrew is fine."

"Thank you. I like it too."

"You can call me Donnie."

"Ok, Donnie, nice to meet you."

I smile. "Andrew, can you show me a real-time view of the earth from space?"

A moment passes. "Your request is not available."

"Do you have the ability to show me a real-time view of earth from space?"

"Yes, but your Screen Time is not subscribed to those options."

Ah, of course. If I were able to see the earth I'd be able to pinpoint my location, since I know what time it is.

"Andrew, can you show me any image of the earth from space?"

"One moment please. This is what I found." Countless images of the bright, blue orb come into view.

"Show me a cup of coffee."

Again, a multitude of images.

"Andrew, where do these images come from?"

"This is what I found." An internet window pops up… Google and Google Earth. So we have the internet… I'm sure I'm blocked from certain sites like my email… but I give it a try anyway.

"Andrew, connect me to Facespace."

"You request is not available."

"Can you show me outside?"

"You request is not available."

"Can you tell me where I am?"

"You request is not available?"

"Can you tell me where you are?"

"I am with you."

_Oh boy…_

"Can you search, Hamato Leonardo?"

"One moment please. This is what I found."

Nothing but a bunch of misspellings and roundabouts. It doesn't mean he's not ok… or was.

"Ding dong!" The door lifts open. It's Gleiv. "H'lo Gov. Have a good rest?"

"Yes, actually. I was just enjoying Andrew's company." I point to the screen.

"Oh I love Screen Time! It's got movies and games and you can send messages back and forth to the people here. We all have one. Mine is named Felicity." He says.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'd love to have one of these back home. I bet my brothers would like to have one as well. Where did the doctor get these?"

"Get them? She made them. There's only about fifteen in the world and they're all here. They're bloody brilliant eh?"

"I thought she specialized in neurology."

"It's a hobby of hers I guess. You should ask her about it."

"There are more important things I'll be asking her first."

"Huh, I'm sure of it. C'mon then. Breakfast time." We walk side-by-side down the hall the up some stairs and take two lefts.

"I'm starting to get the layout of this place. It's a like a big rubix cube with hidden doors and staircases."

"Wow, that's exactly what it is. The professor designed it that way; four levels, four hallways on each level and six stair cases."

"Hmm, well, from all of my wandering on my first day here. I had only been in the two lower floors… What's above us… or can't you say?"

"Well, as you know, we're on the 3rd level. The one above that is where Dr. Gav resides. Here on Level three are our suites, the labs, the rec. room, kitchen and mess hall. The 2nd level is where you were. The one below that is the kennel and docking."

"Is there anything below level 1?"

"Nothing."

"Is there anything above level four?"

"The sky." He says and I give him a look. "Sorry, Gov. Not my place to say."

"Ok, ok. I get it. You're not at liberty to speak about some things."

"Oh, I'm at liberty and so are you. I just have orders not to divulge certain information."

Well… THAT wasn't cryptic. Before I can ask him to start making sense he stops mid stride and sniffs the air.

"I smell waffles." Gleiv sings.

"And I smell coffee!" I say.

We walk in and, surprise-surprise, we are the only ones here. Seriously, why is this place so big when there are only six people here? I take a small plate and place a sliced bagel on the toaster conveyor belt. I head toward the 'siren song' of the percolating coffee pot when…

"Kame, you're coming with me." Carder's gravel of a voice addresses me from behind. I turn and take in his unwelcoming face.

"I just got here."

"Sorry. Orders. Let's go."

"Let me at least grab a coffee."

"Let's go." He touches the holster of his weapon, but by the way he's looking at me, he may have well blown my brains out in his imagination.

"Fine." I say.

"After you." he says.

Until next time, my Caffeinated Countess!

**A/N: Donnie is totally geeking out over the new tech. And why oh why is it so hard for him to get a cup of coffee?! LOL Any comments are appreciated!**


	5. The Lab

**A/N: Hellooooo. I just want to say thanx to everyone who has posted a review so far. Very Very encouraging.**

**Also, This story, like the others before it, is primarily set in the Movie and 1990 Cartoon universe... although Donnie would look more like the 2012 version... cause he's adorable!**

**Enjoy!**

...

"I'll be right outside so don't try anything funny, Kame. The doctor will be here shortly." Carder says as the door seals shut behind him.

I could have had some coffee.

I look around the lab. At first glance it looks pretty basic; a gen-chem lab you'd find at any company or university studying such things… I'm over loading at the sheer glory of it! In my lab back at the Lair, it was dark and 'just clean enough'. I never did have as much room as I needed but I made it work. I had to be careful not to mix my gadgets with my chem. set. I had to make sure I changed my locks every week or Mikey would break in and wreck shop… At least I would have had the entire basement and the attached garage in the alley as my new lab and workshop, once we moved in completely with Amber. Having the connected building next to her bookstore available to buy was a godsend for our growing family. Still, my new lab would look like a rabbit hole compared to this wonderland.

I walk over to a large screen on the wall. It's in 'sleep' mode. There are white tufts of dandelions wafting in the breeze.

"It's bigger than Andrew." I say.

"Yes, Donnie. Is there something you need?" The bottom quarter of the dandelions fade into the Aquarium display from my suite. It's Andrew. This is too cool. Since every screen in the facility is connected, I suppose my personal interface can follow me where ever I go.

"How are you doing Andrew?"

"All systems are go."

"Andrew, can you connect me to my room?"

"One moment please… No one is picking up. Would you like to leave a message?"

"Yes."

"You may record your message at anytime."

"Hey Don, this is Don. Before you leave this stronghold make sure you that you pack up five of the Screen Time machines as payment. Goodbye."

"Okay. Would like to send this as a video or just audio?"

"I love you."

"You are pretty great yourself."

I laugh. "Video, please. And you can keep that the standard for future messages."

"Ok. Your message has been sent and your request has been received. Would you like to contact a different destination?"

"Can I call for pizza delivery?"

"I am sorry. All outside calls are blocked."

"Connect me to Dr. Gavnikov's room."

"One moment please…Connected."

"Good morning Donatello. Having fun with Screen Time?"

"It is amazing. The AI you've designed is a work of art."

"Oh.. T-thank you." She's breathing hard, as if she's walking. And I'm only getting audio.

"Is there a reason why I can't see you?" I ask.

I'm en route to the lab. I'm sorry for the delay. I had a minor setback. I received a forwarded message to my S-Wrist that you tried to contact me in my room and…"

"Wait wait… your Screen Times gets as small as a watch? How is that possible?"

"As long as one has a Screen, it is capable of a connecting to its sister devices. However one's original Screen is setup, all of the information is saved and dispersed from the Nimbus… that's my private internet storage software.

"Nimbus huh? Doctor, I am impressed. Really."

"Oh, I have no doubt you could have done even more so if you had the privileges I had."

I don't know what to say. It would be rude to say 'that's true'. I'm sure if I were to reverse engineer her Screen Time, I could make some adjustments; doesn't mean it's not already a fantastic machine and decades beyond what's on the market today.

I hear a chime and the doctor groans. "Oh what is it now…? Donatello, I will be delayed a bit longer than expected. I am sending Troy in my place. I'll come to the lab when I can. Goodbye." And the call disconnects.

Wait a minute.

Wait a damn minute.

I need to keep my mind on track. All of this new and amazing technology is stealing my attention. I need to remember my mission. I need to do whatever it takes to get home. I'm angry, I'm going thru caffeine withdraw and I want answers! I straighten up and sit on a stool at an empty white table in the middle of the room. All of the other tables have books and beakers spread about them but I find it strange that the largest table here is left clean. I look closer and notice that the surface is somewhat iridescent. I run my finger across, the lamp overhead brightens and a blue digital screen arises from the surface and sits floating about two inches above. I jump up, nearly knocking the stool over.

So much for my resolve.

I walk around the table, awing at the two-dimensional image of a screen hovering over the now deep, black table top. Inspecting the corners of the table, I see tiny lights, all pointing upward and toward the middle. White words appear on the screen. They are backwards from my viewpoint. I come full circle and read; 'Continue work in progress Diagram 83 or begin new session?'

"Continue." I say. The screen spins then, what I'm guessing, Diagram 83 emerges on the hovering in the air. There are lines and lines of small scribbles, too small for me to read. I step up to the blue and white screen, take my two index fingers and 'touch' the screen. I spread my fingers apart and the script thereon magnifies. There we go… It's a formula of some kind. I read along the portion currently onscreen, waving my hand across to scroll. I try my best to figure out what is attempting to be solved when the lab door whispers open. I turn and see a man in a white coat walk in. As the door closes I can see Carder's gloomy mouth frowning at me.

The man looks… very normal; normal height, normal build, brown eyed, brown haired, thirty-ish, clean-shaven, Caucasian homo sapien. If he was a missing person and I had to describe him… he'd be lost forever.

"Well, uh, good m-morning. You m-must be Donat-tello." He switches the data-pad he carries to his left hand and offers his right to me. We shake hands. He looks down at my obviously different hand and then quickly up at my face… not my eyes, my face. Okay, one thing differential about him, he is not a calm person. Or maybe Dr. Gavnikov never mentioned to him that I was a mutant turtle.

"Yes. You can call me Donnie." I say as I step back. "You must be Troy." I look at his name tag. "Troy Albright… wait, are you? You are! Troy Albright, author of the book 'Genetic Thumbprint.'"

_Oh, no. I should have kept my mouth shut!_

"You've, you've read m-my book?" He lights up.

"Oh… yeah, the electronic version."

"Ah, a f-fellow lover of 'historic theory', are you?"

"I think you coined the term 'histheory' in your book?" I internally roll my eyes.

"Yes yes! Wow. So, tell me y-your thoughts. Have I c-convinced you to be a h-hist-theorist as well?"

How should I answer him? His book was basically him attempting to prove that based on the thumbprint design of a child and the child's parents, using his 'astounding' formula, he can reimage exact replicas of the grand parents… all four of them. The problem is that his findings are inconclusive, especially when all four grandparents aren't even alive to test. And in the cases where all four grandparents were present, somehow his formula came up with five sets of prints instead of the sufficient four. Where do the fifth sets of thumbprints come from? Nobody knows because I was the only one who 'proofread' his formula and found the error. He probably thinks he's big stuff since he was a guest speaker on one of the specials on the Science channel. His spiel was more far-fetch than that 'ancient aliens' guy… and I happen to know real aliens.

"I… really enjoyed it." I say.

_Enjoyed taking it apart._

"W-what did you like?" he asks.

_Ugh._

"I thought your argument was very detailed." I say.

_It was a bag of hot air._

"And w-what did you think of the formula itself? N-not too pedantic?"

_You're killing me!_

"I think your approach was very… enthusiastic; a real page-turner." I deleted the copy as soon as I got to the last page. I usually care to read the references but in his case I did not.

"Enthusiastic… I've r-read an online critic use that t-term before."

_Oh no._

"Online critic you say? I'm sure just a petty novice." I try to brush it off.

"I h-had hoped s-so, but this g-guy was a real hard-ass, if y-you'll excuse the term. Normally I would h-have not given him the t-time of day, but m-my PR person had mentioned him to m-me before I g-got p-published… huh, ran me and my b-book through the wringer."

"Well, you can't let one random person string you up like that."

"String m-me up?" He asks suspiciously.

_Oh no!_

"W-what that critic said was so elaborately d-damning I was w-warned not to do a re-printing or rebuttal until my whole f-formula was r-reworked."

"But he's just a critic." I say, too defensively.

"His article on me and a few un-f-fortunate other authors were p-published in 'Technology' magazine in their r-roast section."

_I had hoped he wouldn't have read that._

"And I quote: Lite-brite w-would have been more s-successful had he t-tried to fit an invisible strand of string theory in the eye of a b-black hole. Go b-back to the drawing board. Hopefully I can give you 'two th-thumbs up' next go round, you enthusiastic chunk of gray m-matter. End quote." He stares at me.

I should be impressed with his memory but my stomach is more upset with the fact that I wrote that article a year ago and he's still wigging out over it. But he can't be too sure that it was me. He probably doesn't even remember my penname.

I swallow. "He does sound like a hard-ass."

"M-more like a hard shell, eh NostraDonnie?"

_Fudge…_

Just then the lab door lifts and I swear I see a fading halo and pair of wings as Dr. Gavnikov walks in.

"Good morning! Hello Doctor!" I practically yell.

She stops and smiles. "Good morning, Donatello, Dr. Albright."

"Good m-morning." He says and walks to the back of the lab, probably to cool off.

She looks past me. "I see you've started without me. You have the lasted attempt of Protagen on screen."

We walk over to the…

"I call it the Laboratable." She says. "Just like it sounds, it is a complete laboratory in a table. It has taken five years to design and another three years to complete. This device saves billions of dollars in actual materials by having each element digitally stored. All are accurately and mathematically programmed, even to the weight so they interact with each other as they would in the natural world."

I wipe the drool from my hanging mouth. She actually giggles.

"Let me give you an example." She says. "Vixen, close Diagram 83, open new session." The Laboratable disintegrates down and then emerges into a blank, blue screen. "Give me two ounces of hydrogen atoms and one ounce of oxygen atoms, separate." Two distinct clouds of mist appear onscreen, one with a tab marked with an 'O', the other with an 'H'. She whispers to me. "You can tell Vixen to 'mix all' or you can do it yourself with your hands."

I nod. "Vixen, mix all." The two clouds join together in a silent vortex in the middle of the screen. A round orb is the result. A new tab appears. "H2O… water." I walk up to the screen and 'poke' it. It's fluid like. I take my two hands and spread them apart to zoom in as close as I can. "Oh my God… you programmed this to magnify down to the atoms!"

"Well, of course." She's not bragging, she's actually blushing. "It's just a tool. With it I am sure you will be able to find Protagen. Diagram 83 is a failure. I'm sure if you were to read through that formula, you'd cringe at the errors… Vixen, close current session without saving."

My head is spinning. I couldn't have been kidnapped by a more amazing woman. "There's only one problem I see with your machine." I say way too slyly.

"And what is that?" She responds very coyly and darkly and I think I feel like someone just teleported a rabble of butterflies into my stomach.

"Wheels." I say.

She blinks. "Wheels?"

"Yes. If you add wheels to the legs you could call it a Portable Laboratable."

"Portlaboratable for short?" She teases.

What am I doing? If I didn't know any better, I'd guess she likes this goofy flirting as much as I shouldn't be right now. _She is the enemy! Don't forget it. Get back on track and stop making googly-eyes at her… geez turtle!_

"Ahem, so… you showed me a drop of water. What's next?" I say as normally as possible.

"Right…" She says. "Vixen, open Diagram 10… Donatello, this is an atomic portion of a brain with the CJD disease. I hope you can use this and find what we need for the Protagen vaccine. The…Laboratable… has three different views, formulative, illustrative, and atomic. Work in any one of the three views and it will be recorded respectively in the other two. Once you have a formula you can test it on the digital model of the affected brain tissue to see if it works. Once you have one that does we can make physical doses."

"You make it sound so easy." I say. "What if I can't do what you think I can?"

"Finding you was the hardest part of my endeavor. I believe in my father and he believed in you. Now that you're here, I know you can find Protagen in no time."

"Speaking of time, how long do I have to be here?"

"How ever long it takes you to make Protagen. I'm sure it is not as long as you think it."

"How long do you think it should take someone to find a cure for a terminal disease?" I say solemnly.

"But you are not just 'someone'. Let us revisit the timeline if we are not ready for testing in a month."

"A month? Are we both from the same planet?" I yell and the doctor looks a bit hurt. Troy comes from the other end of the lab at her side. "You do realize, doctors, that humans have been trying to cure less aggressive things, like cancer, for generations. I am a mutant turtle; I have a regular turtle's mind that was mutated. I'm not some 'savant savior'."

"L-like it or not, Donnie, you are the c-closest thing w-we have." Troy says bluntly.

"I don't like it and I am angry! I'm a prisoner here, but I'm starting to be a little relieved, and ashamed, that I might have been captured by a bunch of irrational rainbow chasers. What happens after a month, can I go home? What about six months? A year? How long will you keep me here until I prove your benevolence of me wrong?"

Carder must have heard me yelling. He walks in while I'm spitting my distress. I calm a bit after a few seconds of no one saying anything. They all look grim, Carder even more so. What is going on? I know I'm not the one in the wrong. Troy places a hand on Dr. Gavnikov's shoulder. She looks at him and then steps toward me. It looks like she tries to smile but can't. "Donnie. I like that. Can I call you Donnie?"

"Sure." I say, completely confused.

"I'm sorry again about your brother."

I gasp and step back, stumbling into the Laboratable. Half of my head is phasing through the floating screen. How could she assume my wanting to go home so much is because of my brother; not because they don't know where I am, but because they don't yet know what has happened to him? She is right, however.

She comes close to me again and places a hand on my forearm. She rubs it slightly and rests her cool palm on my wrist. "I won't keep you here that long, Donnie. Give me three months of your time. Get as much done as you can. After that, I release you of your untimely imprisonment. You can contact your family. You can go home if you want to."

_Why wouldn't I wan to?_

I nod and stand up straight. "Three months." I say.

"Ninety days, starting today." She says.

"I help you for ninety days, and then I can go home and you promise not to 'cure' me and my family."

"I promise. Neither I nor any of my comrades will use Antigen or take any adverse actions against you or your family. Ever."

I look to Troy and Carder. They both nod, Troy looking more earnest than Carder. "Even if I don't find the cure?"

She licks her lips and looks down at where her hand rests on me. "Even if you choose to leave without finding the cure."

"You don't think I will." I say.

She her lips curl into that knowing grin again. "No. I think you will stick with me until you do."

_Stick with you?_

"To be truthful, doctor, with all of these new toys you keep throwing at me, I'm definitely going to give it my best try."

"Very good. Let's get started."

And we get right into it. For the next three hours Gavnikov gives me a quick tutorial as to how her machines work, how they are all connected. Everything is recorded during lab time so we can refer back to all the steps taken. This saves time and energy. The doctor maybe shooting high but at least she's efficient.

Troy explains the specifics of CJD and what anomalies to look for. Although the disease may cause discomfort in other areas of the body, the primary destruction happens in the frontal lobe, causing laps in memory and hallucinations. Once CJD is active it can take as little as a month before its victims surrender. Troy also says he will be taking the notes and put into order each day's progress and combine them. He will also assist me wherever needed. He tells me that he will be the one writing the book of our findings. I am confident in his ability to write. His horrible book was written very well.

Dr. Gavnikov's role will just be an observer. She promises to stay out of the way as she is eager to see a breakthrough as soon as possible.

In the back of my mind I hear a small angry voice yelling at me. It's tell me that no matter how long you try to delay, eventually you will have to go home and tell your family what happened to Leonardo. I ignore the pang of dread the thought does to my stomach and continue my tutorials.

"It's eleven, gentlemen. Let's meet back here at one after lunch." Dr. G. says. She rubs her eyes from underneath her glasses. "Dr. Albright, could you set the board before you go, let's make it as easy as possible for Donnie to navigate when we come back."

"Of course, Doctor. Would you like meet me for lunch?" Troy says. I look up suspiciously between the two doctors.

"Sorry, not today. Donnie, you're coming with me." She turns and the lab door opens. Carder and Gleiv are outside. Gleiv waves a 'hello' to me. Carder… has not changed.

I follow her down the corridor; her heels click along with a bit of excitement.

"Where are we off to Dr. G.? About to show me the starship you've been working on?"

She giggles. "I want you to me my daughter."

…

**A/N: So, the doctor thinks it's time for her kid to meet a mutant turtle… what do you think? Any comments?**


	6. The Daughter

"Your daughter is here?" I say as we continue down the hall, sandwiched between the guards.

"Of course she is. Why would I leave her at home alone?" Dr. G. smirks.

"Home, as in, all the way in England or just down the street?"

"Home, as in, back on earth… I am just kidding." She laughs.

I almost believe her. "You also told me that the only ones here are your staff."

"I told you of everyone on my staff. My daughter Anya is not on staff."

"Is there anyone else here 'not on staff'?"

"There is no one else, unless you would like to be officially added to the roster."

"We'll see." I say as we walk into a large room. It looks like a library, but there are only desks with computer screens… no books. There are comfy-looking, yet futuristically styled chairs along the narrow desks, soft light from table lamps and a fifteen-inch Screen Time on the wall next to a grandfather clock.

"Why do you want Anya to meet me? She doesn't already know what I am, does she?" I ask.

"You've missed two week's worth of lessons with her and she has not stopped worrying about you. You two can meet and have her lessons in here, as long as you are with us. And no, she does not know you are a mutant turtle."

"You think maybe that's an important thing to tell the little girl before meeting me?"

"If she becomes hysterical, I'll have Gleiv shoot her with a tranquilizer."

"You'd better be kidding." I murmur as I sit down on a comfy couch. I opt for this position, to look as unintimidating as possible, lest the child shriek.

"Of course I am! She may be my little stepsister but she knows me as 'mother' and that is the way it will stay… Give Anya some credit. I think she may surprise us all." The doctor assures me.

The door silently lifts open and a young girl walks through the threshold. She goes and stands beside Dr. Gavnikov. "You wanted to see me, Mother?"

Her voice instantly sounds familiar.

"I would like you to meet someone." Dr. Gavnikov says as she points at me, sitting on the couch. The girl turns to me. I stiffen a bit once our eyes meet and when they do, I am sure we are both thinking the same thing.

She lets go of the doctor's hand and steps toward me. I stand and remind myself to breathe. She's wearing a colorfully knitted shawl that drapes down over her arms. She is about four feet tall, a standard height for a child her age; with the most-golden hazel eyes I've ever seen.

"Hello. My name is Donnie." I say softly as I offer my hand.

Her little nostrils wrinkle and her eyes grow larger at, I assume, recognizing my name and voice. "H-hello!" She smiles and the gap in her teeth make my heart skip. "You must be Mr. Donnie! I can't believe I'm actually meeting you! It's me, Anya! Wow!" She turns to the doctor. "Mother, did you know he's, like, thee smartest person in the world?" She takes my hand with both of hers and shakes it in greeting.

Gavnikov just smiles.

"Anya…" I say absently. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. What a… pretty young lady you are."

"Thank you." She says shyly. "So, what are you doing here?" She gasps. "Are you here to tutor me in person?"

"Uh, yes, and I'm also here to help Dr. Gav, uh, your mother, in the lab as well." _This is so bazaar_.

"Anya dear, why don't you fetch your notebooks and data-pad from your room? You and Mr. Donnie can have your lesson in here today." The doctor says.

"Cool! I'll be right back." Anya dashes to the door and looks back at me. "I can't believe you're actually here!" She pauses for a moment. "You look nothing at all like I imagined, Mr. Donnie."

_I could say the same thing, little girl_. "Is that a good thing?" I ask.

"It's absolutely phenomenal!" She says and disappears down the hall.

I stick out my bottom lip and glance over at the doctor whose face is beaming with the satisfaction of shocking me, yet again. I roll my eyes. "Well, Doctor, don't keep me waiting any longer. Due tell! I'm dying to know how in the world your 'daughter' also happens to be a mutant turtle!"

The doctor strides over to me and sits on the couch. She pats the cushion next to me and I slowly join her. I'm looking at her and she's looking at me. She's staring as if the answer to my latest inquiry is obvious. "Think about it." she says.

…_Okay…_

…_Duh…_

"Professor Perry mutated a turtle and meant to raise her as his own. That's… I don't know what that is! Did he tell you why?"

"If you consider the timeline I think it makes sense. Once Umen scrapped Jordan's Protagen project, my mother's meddling was no longer needed. My mother didn't want to leave New York; she'd already fallen in love with Jordan and was carrying his child. Umen eventually forced her to go back to Russia, unable to give Jordan any contact information. Then later Jordan met you and your brothers when you were fifteen. You must have given him samples of your mutated turtle DNA to be a starting point for Antigen… Jordan must have infused your DNA into an embryo and mutated the hatchling."

"So… Dr. Perry created Anya… but you both have the same hazels eyes. How…?"

She places a hand on my arm, stopping me short. We look over at the door as Anya bounces in, holding a large number of high-level books, which would look ridiculous in any other ten-year-old's hands. She makes her way to the table and invites me over with a big, gapped smile.

Anya sits on her knees in the chair at the table and methodically lays out her books and notes. She can barely wait for me to sit down across from her before she begins 'my' lesson. "Mr. Donnie, I have completed my homework for chapter nine in this book. I think I have the gist of dominant descending traits but… I have some follow-up questions for chapter 3 on synapses in this book."

_Sheesh! _

"Alright. Let's start with your questions and then I'll check your homework."

"Cool!" she says.

"Anya, I thought I told you to bring your tablet. Everything you need from those books is all on that one little piece of polyurethane."

"I know but I like books. I like turning the pages." She says, as if books should never be replaced.

The doctors sighs. "Very well, darling. I'll be here at my desk if you need anything." I watch her go to the large desk at the back of the room." I'm ordering some tea. Would either of you like something to drink?"

"I'd love some cocoa please." Anya says and the tail end of the word 'please' gets lost as it whistles through her gap. Adorable.

"Alright, Love. And for you, Mr. Donnie?" The doctor smiles at me.

"I'll… take a coffee, black." I say.

"I'll let Devin know." She says.

The doctor begins calling up the kitchen via her S-Wrist and I turn my attention to Anya, who is readily attentive to me. I smile at her and her grinning back at me is only outshined by her golden eyes. I've never really interacted with children in person and this child seems to be enamored with me. With the doctor occupied, I decide to use this sliver of time to indulge her… and maybe get some useful information as well.

"So, how are you today, Anya?"

"I'm right as rain and you?"

"Pleased as punch." I say and she giggles. "Your mom seems nice."

"She's wonderful. My mom is tops!"

"Well, she must be. Does she usually have your teachers come and school you in person?" I whisper.

"Oh, no." She mimics my volume. "I've been home-schooled, got my high school diploma online as well." She says with just a little pride. "You're actually the first… person, I've met in person, outside of Carder, Gleiv and the others on staff here."

I notice Carder and Gleiv at either side of the door. They look over at us when Anya speaks their names. Although I believe I've convinced them I won't hurt the doctor or her child, the two men are still armed. And they still follow me wherever I go to make sure I don't try anything stupid. The only privacy I have is behind the locked door of my quarters. There's no way I can ask direct questions with them so close. I still don't know where in the world I am, not that it really matters. And not being able to see or talk to my family, to let them know that I'm ok, has been heartbreaking...

Not as heartbreaking as Leo never seeing us again. At least I still have hope. I look down at one of Anya's books and open it, uncommitted to any information written therein when Anya places her hand over mine. Her three little fingernails have bright yellow polish.

"Mr. Donnie, I don't want to study. I just want to talk… is that ok?"

"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

She smiles shyly. Her skin is a pure green, like the first tender blades of grass on the first day of spring. I swear I can see her blushing. "Isn't it obvious?" She whispers. "You are just like me, a mutant turtle. For a long time I thought that I was the only one."

She looks as if she is about to tear up. I quickly say… anything. "Well, now you know that you're not alone." I smile, trying to encourage her, also thinking that that was a strange thing to say. "So, there are no other mutants in England that you or Dr. Gav, uh, your mother know about?"

"I've seen other mutants, but only a few, and only the ones that have been brought here."

'_Brought here'… a strange choice of words_. I want to ask her where 'here' is but I can sense Carder straining to hear our words.

"I saw them in the cages downstairs. Carder took me down there once. They were wild and scary and most of them could not talk. He said that my mother helping them and that she was going to turn them back into regular animals."

That's strange. Why would Carder take her to see caged mutants? I wonder how Anya really feels about her mother wanting to change them back.

"Have you ever been on a plane, Mr. Donnie?" Anya asks.

An odd subject change, but I go with it. "Uh, no I haven't… have you?"

She smiles a familiar smile of knowing something she can't wait to share. She leans over to me. "Of course. We didn't swim across the pond from England to New York; although I do love being 'surrounded' by water."

My eyes grow wide. So we are still in America? Still in New York… and surrounded by water? That narrows my present location down to a few places I can think of. But I'm not certain yet. I'm closer to home than I thought I was. I'm happy that I'm not a thousand miles away on some remote island… and she must know that I was 'brought' here like the other mutants were, against their will. I think Anya is much smarter that she lets on. When Carder notices we've been a little too quiet to be going over a lesson, he starts to walk over to us.

Anya must hear Carder's footfalls or just be paying attention to my expression. She almost yells. "I've read a lot about our natural counterparts. Turtles can hold their breath for over an hour. I can hold my breath for almost five minutes now. How long can you stay underwater, Mr. Donnie?

"Uh… up to ten minutes… it's been a while so I'm a little out of practice." I say.

Anya starts to bounce on her knees in excitement. "That's totally awesome! I can do something else regular turtles can do. Watch!"

In an instant Anya's head recedes down into the top of her shell. It was a bit jarring to see her arms flailing about without a head on her shoulders. My brothers and I haven't been able to do that since we were her age… Mikey still tries. Carder is also a bit taken back by the girl's action. He shakes his head and goes back to stand with Gleiv by the door. Gleiv is rolling. The door lifts open and Ms. Devin walks in with a small tray.

"I've got the hot stuff." She announces.

"Nannie McGaff!" Anya's muffled voice comes out of her shell. The old lady jumps and gives a small yelp, almost dropping her tray when she sees the 'decapitated' girl amble toward her with arms stretched wide. Anya stops and tries to reach for her cup of cocoa.

"Honestly, Anya, you're going to send me out of here before my time!" She places the cup into the girl's searching hand.

Anya's miniature globe of a head finally emerges. "Sorry." She turns back at me and winks. What a clever kid.

The doctor walks over and takes the tray from Ms. Devin. "Thank you." She sets the tray down at my table and places a napkin down under a large white mug of coffee. The strong fragrance of steam hits my nose and I welcome the sensation openly.

"I can see a lot of teaching and learning has been going on since I left you two alone." Gavnikov says flippantly. I halfheartedly ignore her as I blow and take a loud sip of the hot brew between my lips.

_It has been too long, my dark, liquid mistress!_

Anya climbs back into her chair and addresses her mother's quandary rather quickly. "Mr. Donnie was instructing me on basic terrapin anatomy and how it contrasts from our mutated state."

"I'm so sure." Gavnikov says. She lifts her own mug from the tray and gives me a… playful… warning… confusing look as she turns and heads to her own workstation in the corner.

Ms. Devin shuffles over to me and gives me a quick look over. "So, how are things, Donnie?"

"Much better." I say over the rim of my mug. "Ms. Devin, this coffee is liquid gold to me right now."

"And this cocoa is chocolate gold to me!" Anya joins in.

We both look back at the doctor, who tepidly lifts her cup and says. "Your tea is always good, N'ann."

"N'ann?" I ask and turn to Ms. Devin, who wipes her hands with a rag hidden in her pocket and takes a seat next to our table.

"Aye. I've been with the Gavnikov family since Tabby and Umi were babes."

"Tabby and Umi?" I ask.

"Tabitha and Umen." The Dr. G. explains.

"Oh yes," Devin chimes in. "I watched them grow, tried to keep them in line. And when they got older and moved to America, I kept the family manor running until… well, until someone came home with more children or I got my release papers. Luckily Tabby came home, belly about to burst, then, m'dear Sasha came along." Ms. Devin says as she waves her handkerchief toward the blushing doctor.

_Sasha. I love her name._

"When Tabby died I was at a loss. Had no idea what to do with my blossoming Sasha-kin. As I was sifting through the objects found with Tabby… when she passed, there was an old folder with Umen's name on it. It was filled with letters and pictures from a Dr. Jordan Perry that had never made it to our doorstep. I contacted Dr. Perry at once and told him all that had happened in the fourteen years that he and Tabitha had been separated. Within that week he had shown up at the Gavnikov manor and moved Sasha and me to England. And then little Anya came into our lives."

I want to ask Ms. Devin how she felt about being a nanny to a baby mutant turtle, if she had second thoughts about her decision of staying with the Gavnikov's now unconventional family. My question is answered when I see Anya cuddle her Nannie and lay warm cocoa-scented kisses over the cooing woman's face.

"Oh my Anya, why are ya wearing this old thing? This tattered shawl is half your age… it barely comes down to your elbows. Oh. My little leprechaun, your eyes, my pot of gold! You're growing like a weed.

"Nannie." Anya blushes. "This is my favorite one. I love all the colors." She looks down at her knitted poncho and twists her arms from side to side, making it twirl.

"Well, then I'll have to make you another one. I'll put it on my 'to do' list." Devin whips out some yellow tape and quickly measures Anya's arm. "Alright…" She then looks over at me. "And how are your clothes fairing, Donnie?"

"Oh, they're very nice. It's different, but I really like them. I admire your ingenuity."

"Good then. You'll get another batch coming by next week. Any particular style you like?" She asks as she whips out a pen and paper.

"Devin!" Dr. Gav, well, Sasha calls over to her. "Where's the data –pad I gave you?"

"Right her in my pocket, love. Get back to work."

_Shade._

"Well, why aren't you using it?"

"Battery is dead."

"Well, all you have to do is sit it on one of the fifty charging beds in this place. You don't even have to plug it in, N'ann!"

_Do I hear the doctor whining? Hilarious._

"Pencils don't need charging m'dear… Now Donnie, anything special I can make you?"

"Uh, my lifestyle had never the need for fancy clothing or any for that matter… I'm really liking the v-neck t-shirts. They're light and comfortable… maybe a few more of those, in different colors, and perhaps a dress shirt. I wonder how I would look wearing a crisp white one?"

"Hmm. I think purple is more your color. This is easy enough. Give me something tough next time." The old lady smirks at me.

"I appreciate it." I say.

"It's my job. Besides, I've had a lot of practice making clothes for my turtle tot over there.

"I have a whole wardrobe of clothes made just for me. I pick things out of magazines or online or sometimes I draw what I want and Nannie makes them for me." Anya sings.

"So, you cook, make clothes and rear children. You're like Super Nannie."

She smiles widely at me. "He's finally got it." she gets up and heads toward the door. "Speaking of cooking, best I get back to the kitchen. Until then."

Once Ms. Devin is gone I see Sasha relax her shoulders and cut her eyes at me. "You have less than an hour to finish your lesson, Mr. Donnie. After that, it's lunchtime.

_Uh-huh. When Nannie's not in the room, you get your bravado back, eh Sasha?_

"Can Mr. Donnie join us for lunch, Mother?" Anya asks excitedly. She reaches into her hot chocolate, pinches out a marshmallow and pops it in her mouth. She really does not need the extra sugar.

"If Mr. Donnie doesn't mind fish and chips, he is more than welcome."

"So long as bugs aren't on the menu, I gladly accept you invitation." I respond as I sip my cup serenely.

"Hmph." Is all she can say.

…

**A/N: Awe! Anya is sooo cute! And Devin is a lovely old lady ain't she? Any comments?**


	7. The Brit

Yesterday was very, very interesting. I was introduced to, who equivocates as, my ten year old daughter. How surreal. I once had a very drawn out conversation with Raphael about our ability to procreate with human women. It was an uncomfortable conversation. To my best knowledge neither I nor my brothers have had any sexual experience to even weigh out the possibility of pregnancy, not until Raph and Amber got together, that's one. And two, since I've come to the conclusion that I may never be so lucky as to stumble across a female who, not only could refrain from screaming at the sight of me, but who would consensually go outside of their species and consummate our meeting, I never granted myself the energy to desire having children. Even though our mutated genes are just point eight percent different than that of a human, I assured my brother that he can't impregnate Amber. Somehow I though the news would relieve him. But he left much calmer and quieter than he came.

And now, from the fancifully scientific mind of Dr. Jordan Perry, he took samples from my mutated DNA, reverted them back to regular turtle DNA with the Antigen, implanted my genes into a regular fertile turtle egg, waited for that hatchling to emerge from its egg, transformed it with Mutagen and named her Anya. He was a mad man. And I am forever his fan.

Anya is… strangely familiar. Watching her speak and laugh and wonder, makes me feel like I'm looking at myself in a mirror from my past. Granted, I was much more introverted that she. I never had anyone around who shared my love of knowledge growing up. I had to affirm myself in who I was and my abilities along the way. Only what my mind could build or make of fix garnered me any validity from my family. It's not their fault. They just don't tick the way I do. Here, Anya has encouragement pouring in like cherry blossoms on a warm spring day. I'm not complaining, I'm merely stating the difference. She's probably years beyond how developed I was at her age. I'm glad. If I had a child I'd want them to have better than me.

I guess I do, and indeed she does.

I go back to thinking about how excited Raphael had looked when he stormed into my bedroom. He had shut and locked my door. He was pacing across the hardwood floor. He finally held on to my dresser to stop his crazy dance and looked over at me. I remember that it was a sunny afternoon. The sun shone as sharp rays through the holes in my blinds.

Leo, Mikey and I had been living in the 3rd floor apartment above Amber's bookstore for almost a year by that time. Splinter was up stairs in his own apartment and Raphael and Amber were sharing the one right below us. We brothers had kept our teasing to a minimum about Raph 'shacking up' with her but we inwardly celebrated his and Amber's relationship. We hoped the best, hoped things kept getting better for them, and they did; yet Raphael had felt the need to hold me hostage in my own room, scared to pieces.

I held up my finger and signed off with one of my online students I'd been tutoring. It could have been Anya; maybe not. I looked at my fidgety brother and he was sitting on the floor stammering about how Amber had missed her menstrual cylce and he wanted to know if it was because of him. I told him, as simply as I could, of my scientific findings on the matter. He had asked me if I was sure. I'd told him yes. He'd asked me if I was really sure. I'd told him that it's common for women to be irregular from time to time. He'd asked me if we had healthy sperm. I'd told him yes and that if we had a compatible mate, a child could occur… I'm glad he didn't ask me how I knew about our sperm. He had asked me if I could be wrong. I'd told him that I was often wrong but the facts are always conclusive. That is when he thanked me and left calm and quiet-like.

I still wonder why Raphael had acted that way. Why would he and Amber want to have a child? Whatever it looked like, it wouldn't be a human or a mutant. Even if it survived gestation, it would be forced to live in this world, all its life, stuck in the middle. It was hard enough for us, growing up in the sewers hiding from the main populace, hated and feared and hunted by the few that discovered us. Why would my brother and sister want to bring that child into this world…?

Why did Dr. Perry?

I never thought someone like Anya could ever exist. I always thought that after me and my brothers were gone, there would be no one left to remember us, no next generation of mutants to carry on our 'heritage'. And now Anya is here. What kind of salvageable future could she have, being one against billions? I don't want to fear for her, but I do. Is it a parental trait, to worry about something so far in the future when it involves their child?

What's done is done, I guess. I know Anya now and nothing will ever change that. She won me over, even before our study session was over, and she charmed me during a greasy lunch of fish and chips. The rest of my day flew by with thoughts of her and I went to the dining hall and ate way too much chili. I finished my apple cobbler. And then Anya ran in. She grabbed two bowls and two more helpings of cobbler. She sat across from me and asked if she could have desert with me. Half of my 'Yes' was for her. The other half was because Ms. Devin is an outrageously good cook.

I roll over to the sound of a string quartet come through the speakers and my Screen Time awakening with the view of a sunrise over New York City. How long have I been laying here in the dark, letting my mind wander? I sit up on the edge of my bed and groan. I ate way too much good food yesterday. I take my time in the bathroom and throw on some sweats and a T-shirt.

"Good morning, Andrew."

"Good morning Donnie. It is Tuesday, March 12th, 6:15 am. Would you like me to tell you the details of the day?"

"Ok."

"You are to meet Drs. Gavnikov and Albright in the main lab, B100 at 8am. Lab time is scheduled for the rest of the day with an hour for lunch in between. On today's menu for breakfast: hard boiled eggs, cream of wheat, banana bread, and kielbasa. For lunch: Chicken noodle soup, open sandwich deli and spring greens salad. For dinner: Beef Wellington, garlic potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts and red velvet cake for desert. Fresh coffee will be available throughout the day."

I smile, only because of the coffee. "I feel terrible Andrew, I need a gym."

"The Recreational Area is located in B107, equipped with weights, elliptical machines, treadmills, a yoga area and showering facilities."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

I walk out my door and Gleiv is standing out there waiting for me.

"Morning, Gov." He's chipper.

"Uh, good morning, Gleiv."

"We off to breakfast this early?"

"No, no breakfast for me right now. I'd like to check out the Rec-room."

"Sure. I'll workout with you. That way we build up a good appetite."

"It's my appetite that's guilt-tripping me into going to the gym." I say.

"Ms. McGaff's cooking is good, ain't it?"

We make it to the Rec-room in less than three minutes. I don't wait for him to lock up his weapons and change. I peel off my custom-made Tee and focus on my warm-up katas. I close my eyes and appreciate the low timbre of meditation music coming from the large Screen Time on the wall. I repeat my cycle three times and end feeling warm and loose. I go into my fourth rep and glance over at Gleiv standing next to me mimicking my positions. I inwardly shrug and continue the set. Once I'm done I stretch my arms and legs head for the treadmill. I've never used one before and I'm eager to try it out.

"Say Don, those were some really cool moves you were doing. I feel raring to go. How's about we spar a bit?"

"Spar?"

"Well, yeah. Used to do it all the time in combat training, not really anyone to train with now. Let's see how we fare." He says with a big grin.

I pause for a moment. It has been a while for me as well. "Ok."

We go back over to the yoga mats and set them aside.

"Ready?" He gets into a low stance.

"Ready." I bow.

We circle one another for a moment and then he advances. He throws very fast and far- reaching punches. He keeps his center of gravity low by keeping on his haunches. He can't hit me though. I bet he thought all turtles were slow. He hesitates on his left side so when he throws another left hook I dodge and kick him in the side, just hard enough to make him falter. He spins and tries to swipe me off of my feet. I stop his leg with mine and grab his ankle and thigh and flip him onto his back. He jacks himself up on his feet and comes at me. He chops at my arms and legs, knowing full well landing a strike on my plastron would hurt him more than me. I follow back with the same courtesy, wanting to keep the fight fair. He does kind of a fake jab and gets in close to tackle me. Now it's a bout of muscle. We both tense up as we try to push each other out of the 'ring'. I think that there is no way he'd be able to topple a two-hundred pound turtle. But he hoists me up over his head and slams me to the matted floor. He holds me to the ground in a not-too-lethal choke hold.

And then it hits me. I feel a small soreness in the back of my shoulders. I remember that this is the same asshole that shot me with heavy tranquilizers and hauled me off like a prized buck. I'm not one to hold grudges but I do like to keep things balanced.

He's not that heavy so I easily hop up onto my hands and knees while he's still climbed up on my shell. I stretch my arms wide and fall straight back, crushing him under my carapace. He slowly releases his hold from my neck and I roll off of him. I wait for him to stand. He shakes himself off and smiles.

"Ok Gov. This time, no holding back." He says with more excitement than anger.

I nod and he comes at me full force I try to block but he pushes me back by the shoulders and grabs my ankles and lifts me right off the ground. I fall back and dodge right and left as the sweaty Brit blasts his fists into the floor near my head. I grab the back of his dreaded head, yell and butt our brows together. I push him away and roll back up on my feet. He's right there and he weaves his hands together and bats me in the shoulder, punches my cheek and knees me in the plastron. I return with punches to his face and chest he blocks with his forearms, steps on my foot and returns a head-butt.

He grounds his feet and jams a palm up to my face. I flip back just in time, hook my feet under his arms and toss him over. He yelps as he flies out of the ring and crashes into the wall with a grunt. I'm still doing the handstand as I see Gleiv in a heap on the ground. I push up and land on my feet.

I stand over him and help him unfold himself. I squat beside him and smile. "Thanks for the work out; gave me a chance to return the favor from when we first me in the Lair."

He catches his breath and looks at me sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Gov. T'wasn't anything personal, I assure you." I offer my hand and pull him up. "Didn't think that it was actually gonna be you this time." He says.

"You'd mentioned that before." I notice a case of bottled waters in a small refrigerated alcove. I take and open two bottles and hand one to him. "You knew about me?"

"Well, yeah. From Dr. Perry."

We sit on a metal bench along the gym wall. "How did you know him?"

Gleiv leans toward me, starting to whisper, even though no one else is in here with us (and I'm pretty sure even the gym is being monitored). "I was one of the sentries who helped him and his baby turtle fly to Moscow ten years ago."

"Really?" I ask in disbelief.

"Honestly, it was me father who led the secret mission. I was only sixteen at the time but was allowed to tag along. It was a long, cold flight and it was my job to keep the doctor and little Anya company. I had never seen anything like her. She looked like a baby, but she was green and only had six fingers and four toes… Dr. Perry let me hold her." Gleiv held up his hands as if embracing an invisible ball. "She was so small and warm; her shell was still soft. She fell asleep in me arms. Dr. Perry told me stories of New York City and also about you, Gov. He said that little Anya wouldn't even be possible without you. I had said that Anya was a miracle and that I would promise to keep her safe, no matter what. I had told him that I wanted to meet you someday as well. Dr. Perry smiled and said that maybe I would. Once we got them safely across the Russian border, I never saw him again. 'Course Anya don't remember me, which is probably just as well." He shrugs.

"So, Dr. Perry trusted you enough to be here today, all because of that one flight?" I ask.

Gleiv purses his lips and blows out a puff of air. He looks at me. "Guess I can't get a thing past you….There was a traitor among us on that flight. I remember that there were two other men, besides the pilot, on the plane with my father; an Indian man and a white man with a bald head. The doctor, Anya and I had fallen asleep when the bald man attacked. He had broken into our cabin, knocked out the doctor, hit me in the head with the butt of his knife and kidnapped Anya. He thought he had taken me out but I recovered quickly and went after him. I had seen the slit the neck of the Chinese man and me father's broken leg outside our door. Father pointed to where the bald man had gone and he urged me to stop him. The man, I recall, was all muscle and although I was tall I had no meat on me bones. At the time, I was still in combat training. I had to put me insecurities and fear aside and get Anya back. The bald man had made it to the back of the plane when I caught up to him. He yanked on a large lever and the back of the plane opened up, bitter wind spewed inside. I heard Anya crying. And then I saw him jump."

"Oh, my God… so you guys got her back, obviously… but how?" I gasp.

"I grabbed a parachute and jumped out after him."

"Great Einstein's ghost." I exhale. "Have you ever done that before?"

He shakes his head. "I wasn't thinking clearly. It was the middle of the night, I was half-dazed by a blow to me noggin and I didn't have time to think about me mortality… I'm surprised I had enough sense to grab a parachute and make sure me bloody blade was strapped to me thigh. It wasn't until the rumble of the plane engines zoomed away, replaced with the deafening batter of wind in me ears and the piercing cold spraying me face, did I realize what I'd done. I was so terrified, I couldn't even scream. In a tumbling fit I secured the parachute to me back and somehow righted meself, looking for any sign of the bald man. Good thing it were a clear night and the moon shimmered on the water thousands of feet below. I saw him; his black shadow, like a boulder, blocking out the stars. He was actually above me and to the left. I spread out me arms and legs to slow my descent. I couldn't believe he didn't see me. I was practically beside him on his right side before I pulled out me blade and grabbed him. I was right on is back and yelling, "Give her back! Give her back!

"He reached for me and easily snatched me, pulled me in front of him and punched me right in the nose! He got away. I tried with all me might to get him back in me line of sight. And then I saw him, like a bullet heading straight down. I did the same. And this time I wasn't going to be civil. With me blade ready I blasted into him and made a clean cut, from the back of his skull down to his shoulder blade, also slicing thought his parachute pack. He screamed and grabbed his head in pain. I spun him around, held on tight to his elbows and kicked him in the jaw. He was out cold. I quickly and carefully unsnapped the four belts of the front pouch where Anya was concealed and attached her to me. I pushed the big unconscious monster of a man away. He'd soon be crushed against the hard waves."

"Meanwhile, you're still falling!" I say, more excitedly that I thought I would have.

"Yeah, I was clearly working on full adrenaline by then. I must have read the instructions five times before I got the nerve to pull the cord. I grunted when the blasted thing opened up and yanked me. Luckily I figured how out how to work the cords. I was also fortunate that I was close to land. I spotted a dark beach and did my best to land as carefully as possible. About thirty feet up I knew that would be impossible so I opted to tuck and roll. I hit the sand hard. But it was all worth it once I opened the pouch and saw Anya's eyes shining at me. I stood slowly and got my bearings. I pulled out my map and laid it out in the moonlight. I checked the stars and found that I was about fifteen miles from the abandoned landing strip the plane was heading to. I handled me blade and started running.

"Along the way Anya started to cry. I stopped for a moment and checked her over to make sure she weren't hurt. Supposin' she was just hungry I checked me pockets and all I had was a half-eaten chocolate bar. Not sure if babies should have chocolate, but I was sixteen and figured that it would be ok because it was milk chocolate. I broke off a small piece and popped it into her mouth. Her lips squirmed and she cooed. She looked up and smiled at me and was peaceful the rest of the way.

I cut me way through the barbed wire and crawled into the abandoned air field, not knowing if anyone would still be there. I started to run when I saw the plane take off. I thought I was too late. But then I saw the lights of a vehicle at the other end and I beat my feet ragged, screaming for them to hear me. The back of the van opened and it was me father. With one leg in a splint he hobbled over to me and crushed me into the most loving hug I'd ever gotten from him. The doctor was right behind him and I unclipped the pouch and handed him his daughter."

Gleiv took his water down in one swig and tossed the empty plastic into a bin. "And I suppose that's why I'm here today." He ends with a bittersweet grin.

"That's an amazing story. You're her hero. Does Dr. Gav know what you did?"

"Yeah, she knows. Not cause I told her though. It was in one of Dr. Perry's journals. First time Dr. Gav met me she gave me a kiss right on the cheek. Anya doesn't know. It's best she doesn't. Now it's just you and Dr. Gav and Carder who know about me little heroic tale." He chuckles.

'Speaking of Carder, what's up with him? I'm trying to understand how we all fit in here but the guy is stone-cold. Should I take his distaste for me personal?"

"Naw. He's in soldier-mode non-stop. Guess he just takes his job seriously." Gleiv says.

"Do you know anything about him… why he might have been chosen?" I ask.

"He says that he was the pilot who flew us to Russia on that secret mission. I was a little preoccupied, you know, baby sitting a mutant turtle and all, jumping out of planes and such, so I didn't take the chance to meet him back then."

We both laugh. I sober up first.

"I know this is a drastic change in topic… there's something else I need to ask, but not quite sure how to." I pause.

Gleiv nudges my arm. "Go on then. If I can tell you, I will." I believe him.

"You said that when you found me, you didn't know it would be me… I assume by the 'cured' animals in the kennel we passed, you'd been searching for a while."

"True. You see, Dr. Gavnikov didn't quite know where to start looking for you. We did confront a few other beings…Some of them very dangerous. The doctor had to turn them back. Although they were smart, none were timid and very few could speak. They weren't accustomed to being around humans and there really was no place in our world for them."

I nod my head. I can't argue. He is right.

"We lost a lot of good men." Gleiv says.

"How many… if you don't mind my asking?"

The tall Brit sighs. He closes his eyes and rests his head back on the wall. "There were seven of us to begin with. We lost three trying to take down a large mutant alligator." He snorts. "Who knew there are really alligators in the sewer?"

I nod and turn my head away. I think it best I keep some things to myself; from the doctor, because I don't want them to know I may I have known some of those mutants; and from my family, because I have enough bad news to deliver to them already. "Listen Gleiv, I hope you know… that last man who died in our Lair… Leo would have never… I mean, I know it was…"

"We all now it was a fluke, Gov… His name was Polk… and he knew the risks, like the rest of us." He smiles at me and I smile back.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I really hope all of this loss of life is worth my being here, or worth what I may be able to accomplish." I say.

My muscles tighten a bit when Gleiv slaps a large hand on my shoulders. "Trouble yourself not, Gov! Dr. Perry and now Dr. Gav, they're dreamers but they know what is possible, much more than most."

"I hope so." I say. I finish my water and toss the bottle in the bin.

We both turn our attention to the opening door. Carder walks in, stern as ever. "Rec time is over. Gleiv, you and I need to take Kame back to his quarters. Then we are to meet Dr. Albright at the kennel for dispersion.

"Dispersion?" I say.

"We're getting ready to set the animals free, now that they have a clean bill of health. Carder is going to ship them out tonight." Gleiv offers.

"That was not 'need-to-know' information, Gleiv. Be more careful what you say around Kame."

"You know, you are allowed to use my actual name, Carder." I stand and wrap a towel over my shoulders.

"Your desire for a closer relationship with me is touching. I'll keep that in mind. Time to move!" he says.

Gleiv takes up his gear, waves his hand at me and I follow him back to my quarters while Reverend Killjoy takes the rear.

…

**A/N: Whoa, Gleiv is awesome… but Carder is kind of a tool! LOL. Any comments?**


	8. The Puzzle

This just isn't working for me. It's not just difficult, but really annoying to have someone looking at you while you're trying to concentrate. I didn't know how well I worked in seclusion until now. I've never had anyone looking over my shoulder or asking so many questions like Dr. Gav does. And I've never had a lab assistant, well, assist me in fetching things so prudently as Troy. That's the primary annoyance! Working by myself, I know exactly where everything is. When Dr. Lite-brite is right behind me and repeats every other step I take, he taps it in his little electronic tablet and changes a verb or two so it sounds more exciting in the book he's writing. He says 'hmm' a lot and when I ask him to elaborate he says "Nothing. P-please g-gone on." And one time he even reaches over me to make my markings clearer on the floating screen. All in all, I don't trust anyone else 'cooking in my kitchen'. Also, if everything I am doing and saying is being recorded, why oh why, do you have to stand there and write it all down? Step away! I'm working with enormously huge and microscopically small numbers!

Troy clears his throat for the one-trillionth time.

"Dr. Gavnikov, I can't do this." I say as I pinch my eyes and walk away from the Laboratable.

The doctors come at either sides of me and I almost jump. "What's wrong?" They say in chorus.

I step back and take a breath. "I haven't asked for anything from you, besides my freedom, which you refuse, and a decent cup of coffee… which I appreciate. But if you desire any reputable results I need to make my requests known and have them met."

They blink at me and then Dr. Gavnikov steps forward hugging her data-pad to her chest. She smiles and looks at me from over her glasses. I swallow.

"What is it that you need, Donnie?" She says.

My temperature checked. "I need a closed workspace."

She looks around at the quiet, sterile, secure lab and then back at me. "Would you mind being more specific?"

"I work best… by myself, with no help or questions. I've never had an assistant and, although it's appreciated, I find having someone at my elbows a distraction. I do not mind being recorded or monitored, but there is a method to how I work and only the right work environment will get us results… and the more efficient I work, the more likely I can create this impossible vaccine… and the sooner I can leave."

Her brows wrinkle and she looks down for a brief moment. "I see." She taps her clenched data-pad to her chest a few times. "Dr. Albright and I will take a break. You can rearrange the space however you see fit. We will then keep ourselves in the observation room over there. If you need us, we can hear you and come to your aid. If I have any questions or requests… I will do so infrequently or we can meet together after each session to digress. Does that work for you?"

"That would be a big help. Thank you."

"Alright." She smiles half-heartedly, and then looks down at her S-Wrist. "Dr. Albright, could you map out a diagram that Donnie can follow for the digital test subjects in process and meet me in the observation room in ten minutes. Donnie, the lab is yours today until you need to rest. Whenever you are done, no matter what time it is, I want a debriefing of your progress."

I nod and she turns to leave. Carder's face goes a bit grim but follows Troy and the doctor out of the room. I see him standing out in the hall as the door goes down.

_Ah, I can finally breathe._

Less than three minutes later Troy sends me a list of the information ordered to Lamar, the lab's Screen Time on the wall and I roll up my sleeves and get down to business.

Repetition, in the case of lab work, is a silent melody in which I willingly become entranced. I move about, measuring, logging, recording my steps. I go back to the Laboratable and begin to write out the formula. At the end of the day I save my progress of the unfinished equation and go to the observation room to debrief with the doctors.

…

Three weeks later I find myself in the lab again, immersed in my work. I follow the same schedule; Wake up, work out, get breakfast, work in the lab, have a lunch lesson every other day with Anya, and spend the rest of the say back in the lab. After which, I go into the observation room to debrief with Dr. Gav. I hit the bed, wake up and around I go again.

I've lost track of time today; been at this for hours. I think I missed dinner again… and it feels good. I glance over at the small observation room and notice it empty. I have no idea when the doctors left. I'm lost in the numbers and molecules and powers and negatives. Then it happens. The pit in my stomach makes itself known as I sense I am coming to the answer. I'm now at the equation just a two lines before Umen's missing juncture. It was so easy before, to get to this point. It was flawlessly flowing like water, from my mind to the screen. And now, I'm getting nervous. I'm solving for…

'_X- Delta 5 to the square root of G minus 265E… 265E… divided by .009678 Pi cubed, cubed… _

_Damn…_

I go back three lines… five lines… twelve lines… and at twenty-six lines back I see I solved for 3m -998654 in stead of 3m-998653…

And I added too many atoms of sodium.

_No one is perfect. But I was sooo close!_

I erase eighty-six lines of my coding, save my session to the lab's portable data-pad and decide to turn in for the night… or morning. It is five am according to the Screen Time on the wall. I rub my stinging eyes and shuffle out of the lab to see, not Carder on guard but a humming Gleiv, listening to an MP3 player. He looks over at me and smiles. He hands me a hot mug. I sigh at the smell of fresh coffee.

"Mornin' Gov, setting that midnight oil ablaze I wager?"

"You know it." I sip the steamy goodness. "I hope this is decaf, Gleiv. I'm mentally drained."

"Definitely, Gov. Just came by to relieve Carder. Caught 'im snoozin'. Don't tell the doc!" He says.

"About the doctor… she said that I should report my findings to her as soon as I was done for the night, but should I wait?"

"Not at all, she's a night owl as well. Got her own projects she busies herself with. Come on then." Gleiv leads me down the long hallway to another unseen door. He puts up his hand and says. "Sir, I've got Dr. Hamato here to see you."

I force the coffee down my throat, too hot and too hard. "Dr. Hamato?" I ask.

"It's what she calls you when you're not around." He mimics her tone and accent quite well. "Make sure Dr. Hamato has this. Make sure Dr. Hamato has that. Make sure you give Dr. Hamato his space. Dr. Hamato only likes his coffee black. Oh, Dr. Hamato is so smart!"

I laugh a warning. "You know she can hear everything you're saying if she wanted to."

"Ah but it's not like it's not obvious." He jabs.

"What's not obvious?"

He stares back at me as I hear the door 'ping'.v

_An elevator?_

"Gov, maybe the doctor's giving you too much credit." He places a hand on my shoulder and the door opens and someone rushes out and almost knocks Gleiv and I over.

"Troy." I say surprised. And that's all I feel comfortable saying. He's not wearing his white coat, just a normal black polo and tan pants. He's holding his cheek. It seems a bit red.

"Good m-morning Gleiv… doctor." Sounds like that 'doctor' had a bullet in it and he just shot me in the face. The Brit and I watch Troy jog around a corner before we look back at each other and smirk.

"No nightcap for him, eh 'doctor'?" Gleiv slaps me on the shell and pushes me into the elevator. "Go on up, just push the T button. I'll be down here waiting for you… or would you like me to go and just meet up with you later." His mouth curls.

"No, I may need you close by incase the doctor decides to throw me out as well."

The door closes between me and the chuckling guard. I see three buttons, B, L and T… funny. I press the B button and it doesn't even light up. Figures… I press the T button, it lights and I feel the slight gravitational change of being propelled upward. I cup my hand over my mouth and check for freshness.

_What the hell am I doing? _

I roll my eyes. All I smell is coffee anyway. I swing my hand down swiftly when the door opens.

It's amazing. It looks like an old English home, updated to the twenty-first century; dark wood paneling, a roasting chrome fireplace, wingback chairs in microfiber, floating bookshelves along the walls, paintings, vintage Moroccan rugs and the faintest sound of violins playing. The largest Screen Time (I'm pretty sure), about nine felt long, graces the far wall displaying a very crisp and very deceivingly realistic, digital view of earth as seen from the surface of the moon. In the corner I see a wide spiral staircase going up into the tray ceiling. To the right of the stairs is a doorway with the light from within shining into the dimness where I stand.

"I'm in here!" The doctor calls.

I walk over and stand in the door way. This must be her personal lab, clean lines, stark white, wires align a super computer with enormous display, and desk and shelf area full of gadgets and gizmos, an MRI machine… perfect tech heaven. I see her at her work station; a black mask covers her face and she's welding with a needle nose device shooting a thin cloud of smoke in the air. She's seated on a tall stool. She's wearing a loose grey T-shirt and a short pair of green satin shorts. Her one leg is folded under her showing off a silver slipper. I don't know where her white lab coat is either, and I really don't care right now.

She kills the welder and takes off her mask. She props her glasses rightly on her nose and smiles at me. Her eyes look puffy and red, probably from working all night. Then I see a few crumpled napkins on the edge of her desk, so I could be wrong. She waves out her gloved hand to display her room. "Well, what do you think?"

I look around once more to make sure I give her a fair answer. "I'm insanely jealous. I think it was the MRI that sent me over." I return her smile. I walk over to her and she turns off her lamp and removes her gloves.

"What're you working on? Looks…intricate." I say.

"It is." She places a sheet over her table and turns toward me. I immediately ignore her secrecy as she sits upright, leans her elbows on her covered desk and crosses her bare legs. The smell of burning wire has never been so arousing to me. "It's just a little something I've been working on, a present for Anya."

"Anya. Is she..?"

"Upstairs, asleep, shouldn't be up and about until seven." She smoothes out the wrinkles in the fabric and suddenly looks very sad.

"Is something going on between you and Troy?" I ask.

"What?" She says a bit shocked.

"I mean, I don't want to get into your personal affairs but I couldn't help notice how quickly he was leaving as I was coming…"

She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut again.

"You don't have to divulge. Just making sure you're ok."

"Dr. Albright… Troy, he was confused about some things he thought I was confused about… which I'm not… and we had a little disagreement."

"It doesn't look like it was resolved just yet by the way he almost bowled me over… Is there any way I can help?"

_Is there any reason why I care?_

She looks like she was genuinely thinking about it. "No. We just need things to run their course. He can't change my mind so…" She looks at me and shrugs. She switches subjects quickly. "What have you got for me, Donnie?"

"Don't you mean Dr. Hamato?" I question as I take out the tablet from my coat pocket.

She physically fumbles. "I… I only address you as such to my subordinates. It's a sign of respect. Besides, I think the title of 'doctor' is fitting."

"I've never gone to school."

"You would have excelled at any institution." She says quietly.

_Awe, she's complimenting me._ "Thank you, doctor."

"Please, call me Sasha." She looks up at me and holds out her hand in greeting.

_What a strange bird she is._ "Ok, Sasha."

I take her small hand in mine. It's very cold. I find myself wanting to keep her hand until it warms up. But I just give a light shake and lets go. I let my arm fall at my side and ball my fist. I still feel her there.

"It's fine, Donnie, as long as we are in casual conversation."

"We have time for casual conversation? The way I've been on the grind the past few weeks I'd say we're on some sort of deadline." I tease.

I notice her smile fades a bit as she shrugs again. "No, no deadline to report, Donnie." She gets up and walks over to a smaller version of the Laboratable from the lab. This one has wheels freshly welded to them. She takes my tablet and waves it over the surface. Then Diagram 90 emerges as a 3D model over the table. I go to stand next to her.

"Ok, now I'm really jealous."

"Don't be. Honestly Donnie, when will I ever stop amazing you?"

"Hopefully never." I purse my lips.

I give a look of shock and she giggles. "I didn't mean to sound haughty. I just know once you get these machines home, you'll see how sloppy my work really is and make them even better."

"You'd really let me leave with some of these wonderful things?"

"It was never a question of if I would allow you to leave this place empty-handed. It would be how much you could carry with you."

"I can always make more than one trip… and I do have brothers to help me."

She smiles and we turn our attention to the floating screen. She scrolls through the entire script and then switches views to inspect the molecular model and digital drawing.

"The way you structure your formula is very precise. The molecule sequence is very streamline… but this is not based on Mutagen or Antigen. How will this help you cure CJD?

I step up and change the scale of the diagram. "To know the solution we have to know the disease. The strain of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease we are currently studying is hereditary since you've mentioned that your mother, grandmother and great-grandmother have had it. Right?" She nods. "Sasha, this is a digital protein of the brain sample you've givenme to work with. A healthy brain would have the protein gene PrP(c). A classic case of CJD would have the mutated protein, PrP(sc)."

"You were able to program the Laboratable to code molecules into genes?"

"I just solved for the algorithm and requested to your already sophisticated system to set my 'gene' view request as a default."

"Amazing."

"Thank you. But what I'm trying to say is that the digital brain sample you've given me shows a mutated protein sFI… it's an extremely rare subset of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, called Fatal Familial Insomnia. It causes absolute sleep depravity, hallucinations… and once the symptoms start… the victim can't survive more than eighteen months without sleep."

I watch her from the corner of my eye. She looks at the screen, wringing her hands. Something doesn't feel right to me. "Where did you get this sample?" I ask.

"I've had it for a very long time… it is from my mother." She says. "This isn't a problem is it? Will it be harder for you to work, now that you are sure it's not classic CJD?"

"Considering the circumstances, Fatal Familial Insomnia, or FFI could be much easier; easier to recognize and understand… the more I study the healthy protein sample I should be able to find a way to deconstruct the sFI protein and replace it with the normal PrP(c) protien"

"How easy is that?" She asks.

"It'll be like… solving a rubic's cube in the dark, behind my back."

"Sounds very impossible when you say it like that." She half laughs.

"Well, then it's a good thing I've actually done it before." _I can grin devilishly too._

"You… You're a big geek." She says with awe. I turn and look at her quickly and her eyes widen as she sucks in a breath through her teeth. I think we're both surprised that she just blurted that out. "I mean that in the best way possible, Donnie. I mean, look at me."

_Oh, I'm looking at you._

I move in, very close to her, practically hovering. I look down on her and she looks up at me with those hazel eyes, her thin black frames swinging on her statuesque nose and her face even redder than before. I've never wanted to play the intimidating part to prove my point. I'd usually leave that role to another brother of mine. But her wit matches my own, sometimes surpasses. If I'm a geek, and I am, then she is Dr. Geek, Queen Geek, ruler of Geek-topia. I smile smugly, thoroughly enjoying this rare stint of dominance, knowing, all the while, that she is giving me a very big compliment. "You're lucky I like puzzles, Sasha."

"Then you can call me Jigsaw." She says in a deep, sultry voice.

_Sultry… is she… no… She's trying to get into my shell…wait no, no… she's trying to ruffle my proverbial feathers. She's trying to get the upper hand… again. I'm not going to let her. I can play this game too._ I lean down and whisper in her ear. "You may make a pretty picture, but I like a challenge. It wouldn't take me long to put your pieces… in the right place.

She gasps and it kind of drives me wild. I keep my cool. _I think I got he_r! I go to stand up straight and smoothly hightail it out of there but she grabs the top edge of my plastron through my v-neck shirt and pulls me closer. My nose is being battered with the cool fresh scent of soap in her hair and her freakin' lips brush the skin near my ear canal.

"You could just turn me over and do me in the dark. Would that make it harder?"

Check-fucking-mate.

_Now what are you supposed to do genius; scurry away with your tail between your legs or throw her on the Laboratable and go to town? Go to town! Listen to you! Oh, you sound like a real expert now! Do something!_

But I take too long to rebut. I guess I loose. I step away from her, preparing myself to see her victorious grin… instead she has a hand over her mouth and she is completely flushed.

"I… I'm sorry." She looks away. "I don't know what to say. That was completely out of line. I took that joke way too far."

I'm surprised how hurt I feel when she says it was a joke.

"Heh, it's ok. No harm done. Remind me to never play poker with you." I brush it off. That hurts as well.

She side-steps around me and shuts down her machine. She hands me the tablet. "I think I should get some rest before Anya wakes up. I do appreciate you bringing me this new information. I'll go over it meticulously and meet you and Dr. Albright in the lab, say ten am?"

I'm more than a little taken back. I shake my head, wanting to assure her that I'm ok with the playful banter, wanting to tell her that I don't want to be so stoic, that if I'm forced to stay here, I'd like to enjoy spending time with the one's around me. "Sasha…"

She cuts me off. "Good night, Dr. Hamato." She gives me a sharp smile. She walks to the door and I follow silently. I go to the elevator and push the button. Once it 'pings' I go inside, turn around, and I see her legs as they vanish up the spiral staircase.

**A/N: Nerds talking dirty to each other… Spicy! Am I explaining the technical clearly? Is there too much, too little? I wonder what Troy and Sasha were fighting about. I wonder if things are gonna get weird… Wait, I'd better know what's going on, I'm writing this! **

**Thank you for reading and all the reviews so far! Anymore comments?**


	9. The Truce

At ten on the dot, I walk through the lab door, leaving Gleiv to stand guard in the hall. He wanted to know all the juicy tidbits that took place with Dr. Gav. I told him that nothing happened and she didn't tell me anything about why Troy left in a huff.

Dr. Gav and Dr. Albright are already in the observation room. They are both seated and neither are talking or looking at each other. The tablet in her lap lights up her face and he is looking at me.

"Good morning, doctors." I say to them. Sasha looks up, smiles and then back down at her data-pad. Troy nods.

…_Okay… not awkward at all. Oh well, whatever is going on between those two I hope that it doesn't make my job harder._ I activate Vixen and get right to work.

We break for lunch and the doctors rush out. I save my session and head out the door… It's Carder. We head to the dining hall and I eat alone.

It's the same thing after lunch. The doctors are silently looking, or not looking at me through the clear class of the observation room. I work until evening. Around eight pm, Gleiv walks in with a wrapped sandwich and some coffee. Troy mumbles something about calling it a night and leaves. Dr. Gav stands at the open door of the observation room, watching him go. She comes out, taps a few buttons on her data-pad and waves it over the surface of the Laboratable. She says that she'll study the progress of the day at home and will see us tomorrow. I go back to my room, watch a movie and go to sleep.

The next day, it happens all over again. I all I get are stale faces, one-word answers and quiet retreats. If it wasn't for Gleiv and Anya, I'd be all alone.

…

"What is your favorite type of ice-cream?" Anya asks as we sit in the library eating cheesy-mac and fruit salad. She happily slurps down a small carton of chocolate milk with another on stand-by.

I smile at her over my cup of coffee. "I like vanilla bean, and sometimes I'm in the mood for double chocolate fudge brownie."

She gasps. "I love double chocolate fudge brownie!"

"I though you might."

"I like regular chocolate and dark chocolate and peanut butter with chocolate… practically any ice-cream with chocolate is fine with me. We have ice-cream here… if you ever want any. I'd make sure you'd get some."

I look at her wryly. "I appreciate you looking out for me, Anya."

"I don't mind at all. If I were you, I'd rather be looked after as a guest than followed around like I'm going to steal something." She mutters and cuts her eyes at Carder, who is standing by the door. He's probably staring right at me but I can never tell with those shades he's always wearing.

"You think I'm being treated unfavorably?" I ask her.

"I don't know." She looks down and plays with the opening of her second carton of milk.

I'm interested in what's going on in her mind; how she is viewing this whole situation of me being here. "Anya, you wouldn't have made that remark if you didn't have an opinion about something."

She sticks her straw into her milk. She bites down on the straw and blows into it. "I wish it were just you and me here while we eat and go over our lessons. Don't you feel like you've done something wrong with a guard watching you all the time?"

"I… it's just a safety precaution. Like you said, I'm a guest here. There's a certain level of trust that has to be met before I'm able to walk all through your… this facility, unattended."

"You've been her for weeks now. How long will it be until my mother trusts you?"

Yikes. This is definitely a personal conundrum. Although I do feel like a criminal when Carder is monitoring me, Gleiv is actually spending time with me when he's on watch. Anya couldn't possibly know how little it matters to me that I've got an escort wherever I go. She only cares that I have one when I'm with her.

"Anya, even if I had twenty guards following me around, I'd still ignore them when I'm with you for our lunch study. And you mother, she's just looking out for your wellbeing. I'm a stranger."

"Well, you are not a stranger to me. I've known you for over a year as my online tutor. I trust you more than anyone, even more so now that I've met you… If my mother cared about my wellbeing so much then maybe she should be standing at the door with a tranquilizer gun instead of Carder." She looks away, pressing her lips tightly over her straw and silently sucks in the milk.

In the weeks that I've been here I've noticed that Dr. Gavnikov is with Troy and I in the lab the entire day. And I've seen for myself that Dr. Gav can stay in her personal lab into all hours of the night and morning. I'm not sure if she sees much of her daughter. I understand how important it is to Dr. Gav that I find Protagen. I can help give her a longer, healthier life with Anya. But I'm betting Anya has no idea the possible severity of her mother's condition. There is a fifty/fifty chance of FFI awakening in Dr. Gav's genes. Finding a complimentary version of Protagen would destroy that trait. This time the doctor sacrifices away from her daughter is storing up hope for more time with her in the future. Still, it doesn't abate Anya's desire for her mother's attention. Not just time as teacher and student, but mother and daughter, nurturing, quiet, fun things; stuff I can't replace within an hour of tutoring every other day. Master Splinter may not have been able to help me or guide me with my collection of science projects and gadgets, but he was always there to ease my tangled mind and help me focus. Whenever I needed to talk to him, he was there. I know there were times when I rambled and spoke too fast. But somehow he was able to cut away to the source of my troubles and I always left his room better than I'd come in.

"Anya, what do you do all day when your mother, Dr. Troy and I are in the lab?" I ask.

She sighs. "Let's see. I get up about seven am and get washed and dressed. I have a lot of clothes so that can take a while. Then I play with and feed my Virtu-pet Pegasus. I helped mom program her. She can fly and talk to me and play little games. I named her Petals. Then I read a few chapters of some sci-fi books I'm currently into. I love sci-fi. My mother comes in sometimes to kiss me goodbye or she sends me a quick message to my Screen Time. Then I go and have breakfast with Nannie in the kitchen. She lets me help clean and I teach her how to use her data-pad… she hates it though. Nannie has been teaching me how to crochet. I'm horrible at it. But I still want to try. I want to make my mother a shawl for her birthday. Then if Truth isn't busy, she teaches me dance moves. She's really good and lets me listen to music Mother wouldn't want me to… Then I either have lunch with you or by myself. I go back to my room, read some more, study, play online games, tinker with my own projects, eat dinner with mom…maybe… then go to bed."

"You crochet and dance… and you tinker? What type of projects do you have?"

"I just like to take things apart and put them back together. I'm working on a blender now."

_You are your father's daughter. _"That's really cool. I'd like to see it when you're done."

"Really?" She shines.

"Of course. Just continue being careful with the blades."

"Ok… Um, Mr. Donnie, how long will you be here working with my mother?"

'_How long will I be here with you' is your real question. _

"I'm only supposed to be here until June. I'll help your mother as much as I can with her project and then I need to go home." Her features fall and her frowning at me stabs me in the heart. I reach over and tap the tip of her nose ridge. She crosses her eyes to look at my digit… is she blushing? Her eyes meet mine and I smile. "Anya, I hope you know that you are someone truly special. But this place isn't your home and it's not mine either. After I'm done here, we'll both have to go home. You're a great kid. I'll always be in touch. Now that you and I know what we look like, video chatting won't be a problem anymore. And maybe someday I'll be able to take a plane to England and come visit you."

She shakes her head. "Mother sold our home before coming here. We have nothing to go back to."

_Why would she sell their home and come to New York? Did she plan on getting a permanent visa and stay here? In New York, perhaps?_ I have this strange feeling that Sasha's setting me up for something. And not just me. I start to pack up my things; our lessons seem to go by so quickly. "Don't worry Anya. One thing I'm a believer in is balance. Things always seem to work out."

"Ok Mr. Donnie."

The rest of my day went on just like the last one. I decide to stay in late and finish a portion of the protein map I'd been working on. By the time I'm satisfied with my progress, it's one am. I squint my eyes and head for the door. Following Carder back to my room for the night, I've never felt so alone.

…

The next day while following Gleiv to the lab, I make up my mind. I refuse to work like this. I don't really care what is going on between Sasha and Troy and I don't feel I should be taking the brunt of it. Just because they choose to act like children toward each other doesn't give her the right to avoid me or him to continually scowl at me. I don't remember doing anything to either of them!

Well, wait…

I could have made her feel uncomfortable talking to her like that the other night, using insinuating language, even if we were being playful. I started that. And Troy… my opinion of his book may have put a bad taste in his mouth. I never got a chance to talk to him about that. These things just need to be brought to the surface and skimmed away, not buried!

So I'm putting my foot down! I'm going to walk right in there and speak my mind. They WILL speak to and be cordial with me and each other. And whatever issues they have on the side, they can 'kiss and make up' about it on 'casual' time.

The lab doors lift open and I start. "Dr. Gavnikov, I need to…" I stop.

Dr. Gavnikov is standing on a tall stepladder; she is leaning over the Laboratable carefully screwing in a large light bulb.

"Ooo! Hold on to me! Don't let me fall!" The young, Russian doctor cries.

"Don't worry Sassy. I got you." The sexy, Brooklyn, maintenance woman says coolly.

Truth is standing behind the doctor; her bulky boots straddle either side of the ladder, keeping it steady and her hands are firmly holding Sasha's hips, making sure she doesn't topple over and crash into the very costly piece of technology.

Dr. Gav looks over at me. Truth looks me up and down and gives me a coy smile. "Morning Don! How's it hangin'?"

_It's hangin' a little less now, thanks_. "Er, good morning Truth. So… what's going on?"

"This damn Labra-doodle thing, as wonderful as Sassy says it is, doesn't work without these special light bulbs." Truth says as she wiggles the obviously blown out bulb in her hand. It's blue, and its halogen coils shape into an upside down bowl. "And since they're so special and especially made, they cost a special price of $300 a pop. That's why my little doctor strongly suggested she screws it in herself. Ain't that right, Sassy?"

Truth squeezes Sasha's hips. Sasha yelps. "Honestly, Truth! I'm almost done!"

"Take your time. I'm good." Truth winks at me as she rests her head on Sasha's rump.

I feel my face flush. I'm sure Sasha feels her own face flush as well. "I'm done! Help me down please."

Dr. Gav steps to the floor and looks up at Truth's indignant smirk. I glance quickly back and forth at the two women. Truth is almost as tall as I am. Her strong feminine features glow as a woman in her prime. She looks thirty-five. But I wouldn't be surprised if she was older. Her torn, sleeveless, Aerosmith Tee displays her slenderly cut arms. And her tool belt hangs heavily and crookedly around her hips. I have no doubt her tan carpenter jeans hide the legs of a model. Her hands are adorned with leather, fingerless gloves whose fingers press the end of her braided ponytail against her bare belly.

Sasha's statuesque nose barely meets the height of the Brooklyn women's glossy lips. Her short auburn hair forms around her head in loose curls as the bang atop her head curves up in the air . She doesn't wear much make-up… doesn't need it. Her dark hair and hazel eyes add a beautifully exotic mixture of humanity to her face. Her pouted lips have a hint of red. Her white lab coat may hide her figure but the collection of four inch stilettos she always parades in give her calves a sultry shape peaking from under her pencil skirt.

"What?" Truth laughs.

Dr. Gav's condemnation melts into a smile. "I'm still wondering how you made it onto my father's list."

Truth rolls her eyes and places a finger under the rosy-faced doctor's chin. "Maybe you and I could have a slumber party and I'll tell ya all about it… You can come too, Don. That is, if you're into that kind of thing."

_Does she mean to ask if I'm into threesomes or into humans? Either way…_ _Double Yikes!_

Truth looks back and forth at me and Sasha. When we don't respond she busts out laughing. She folds up the ladder, grips it under one arm and walks to the door. "You two need to unwind, seriously! See you's later and don't hurt yourselves at the nerd-a-thon!" She leaves.

_Thank God._

Dr. Gav and I both let out a puff and air and smile at each other. She almost forgets her shunning of me and turns toward the observation room.

"Wait, Dr. Gav…"

"I'm sorry. One moment please." She jogs away and goes into the small room. A moment later she comes out with a small white box. She walks over and stands in front of me, seemingly to mentally prepare herself for a presentation. "Dr. Hamato, I must apologize for how I've treated you the past few days. I've let some personal issues affect our working relationship. I've been acting like a…"

"A child?" I add.

"Well, there is one child we both know who would never act this immature." She says with slight guilt. "Which is why I want you to know that I appreciate what you're doing… and I hope this small token let's you know the level of trust I have in you."

_Trust?_

She opens the box to reveal a shiny, new S-Wrist, a sister device to Screen Time. She sets the box aside and fits it to my left wrist. I notice the extra links she's attached.

"It's already calibrated to your Screen Time, Andrew. It's water proof, has a solar-power feature as a secondary energy source and works with our personal global network." She says.

I whistle at my gift as I twist my wrist, enjoying the weight, durability and craftsmanship of the device. "Why are you giving this to me?" I ask.

"You've been here a while now and I think it's time to bump you up to full staff member. The S-Wrist will keep you in contact with everyone here wherever you are. It's helpful for when you are in an area where there is no Screen Time. It's also GPS capable, which means…"

"You'll know where I am at all times." I ask cynically.

"Well, if I ever 'needed' to know where you are, I could just 'un-invasively' track you… or call you; Unless you like Carder or Gleiv holding your hand where ever you go." Her lips curl.

"Uh, no I like this way better… thank you, Doctor." I smile and she smiles as she looks down and sits the S-Wrist rightly with both of her hands. The slightest brush of her freshly polished nails sends tingles over my skin.

"Good." She says.

"So, I take it you eavesdropped on my and Anya's conversation yesterday?"

"No! Actually… she and I had a conversation last night when I came home well-past dinnertime. She'd expressed some things that I'd been too distracted to notice. I apologized to her as well… And I'll be doing more apologizing once we have a long lunch together later today." She says.

_Wow, Anya really is looking out for me._ "That kid is dangerously keen, isn't she? I wonder where she gets it from." I cut my eyes at her.

"I could ask you the same thing, Doctor." She returns my gaze.

We turn to the sound of the lab door opening and Troy walks in on our laughter. I notice Sasha stops suddenly and removes her hands quickly from me. His demeanor stiffens but fixes his face as he walks toward the observation room.

"Good m-morning, Doctors." He says.

"Good morning." I say.

"Hello." She says.

Troy closes the door and gets himself situated. I turn back to Dr. Gav and she shrugs. "Two down, one to go." She pulls out her data-pad and looks up at me. "Ready to start when you are, Doctor."

"I'm ready." I watch her go into the observation room and close the door. She walks past Troy and sits on his right side… They're speaking… and smiling… good. But then Troy scoots his chair closer to her and whispers in her ear. She smiles and whispers back. That's also good… they've patched things up…

"Vixen, open Session 88, view two." I say and the Laboratable awakens. And the rest of the day goes well. But for some reason my mind keeps flashing images of her smiling at him and I hate how it bothers me so much.

…

**A/N: Yay for Anya, Donnie's Little Ally! And Donnie… guess you'd better keep you focus! Thank you so much for the reviews so far! I'm grateful!**


	10. The Proposition

I awake the next morning to the usual sound of violins and cellos humming and the orange and black skyline of a New York City sunrise. I reach for the mug of hot coffee on my desk. I am so happy Truth installed a personal caffeine machine in my suite. I take a long sip and spend a few minutes in the bathroom. I come out and notice a small icon blinking at the edge of my Screen Time. It looks like an envelope.

"Andrew, do I have a message?"

"Good morning, Donnie. You have one text message from Dr. Troy Albright. Would you like me to read it now?"

"Yes."

"Please meet me at my room as soon as possible. I need to talk to you.- Troy"

"Andrew, tell him I'll be right there."

"Message sent."

I throw on some clothes and follow the directions on my S-Wrist to Troy's quarters. Before I go around the corner to Troy's door, I call on Andrew. "Andrew, start audio recording. When I say the word 'goodbye' stop recording."

I look down at the screen showing a red, blinking light. I cover it up with my sleeve and walk to the door. I put up my palm and announce myself. "Troy, it's Donnie." A moment later the door lifts and Troy is standing in the entrance. He blinks then stands aside and welcomes me in with an open arm.

I look around and am surprised to see how homey his place is; a plush comforter on his twin bed, a couch and coffee table, a microwave and small fridge, large blue carpet, floor lamps, family photos and a hamper full of clean laundry. Oh, and his PHD hanging by the Screen Time. Troy is still in his grey-striped pajamas. He walks into his bathroom and beckons me to come in with him. I guess he doesn't want anyone to hear or see our conversation. I walk in and he closes the door. He sits on the commode and I lean back on the sink, crossing my arms.

He looks up at me with his hands laced around themselves. It's too late to try to look normal now. We're two, grown men hiding in a small bathroom, having a secret meeting. I wait patiently as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"I'm in love with her." He says clearly.

My brows rise_. Huh, I guess this was not about me critiquing his book_. "What does that have to do with me?" I ask.

"It h-has everything to d-do with you." He says defeatedly. He shakes his lowering head, seeming to hope that what he needs to say next is written on the ceramic tiled floor. "D-do you know w-why I'm here Donnie?"

"If you mean if I know why you are one of the people Dr. Perry trusted, then no, I don't."

He looks up at me and runs a hand through his neatly cut, brown hair. "I've known Dr. Perry and Sasha f-for a very long time. I w-was Sasha's childhood friend. Because of m-my father's work, my f-family and I moved from Sacramento, California to D-dover, England. We happened to b-buy the humble house right next door to their l-lavish estate. The f-first time I l-laid eyes on her, I thought she w-was a princess."

_Enter my rolling eyes here._

"We'd become friends. W-we stood at the s-same bus stop every m-morning even though she went to an ivy-league h-high school and I just w-went to the l-local academy. My classes let out a g-good f-forty-five minutes earlier than hers, but I w-would still wait around the corner until she g-got dropped off. Those were the b-best ten minutes of my day, walking her home. On our first s-summer break I b-begged my parents to invite her and her father over for dinner. Her h-hair was much longer back then, draping d-down her back. J-just looking at her, sitting across from me at my d-dining table m-made my head spin. W-we went up to m-my room and I s-showed her m-my small library of books. I did a l-lot of writing back then. I w-wanted to impress her with my l-literary awards. L-looking back, she m-might have been just being p-polite. Our parents b-became friends and that meant I could get even c-closer to her.

"The f-first time I was invited over to the estate, I knew s-something was d-different about them. I w-was w-warned to not go upstairs and the two s-seemed to have a h-hidden language w-when they looked at each other. Dr. Perry had transformed their l-large glass-incased g-greenhouse into a laboratory. Sasha led me through the m-magical workroom. I f-felt like I had s-stepped into the future. She had s-showed me what she was working on, growing g-green goldfish."

"Wait, wait… fifteen-year old Sasha was already genetically engineering animals?" I have to ask.

"Y-yes. She has always b-been brilliant. Those g-goldfish were j-just a hobby. Her real passion was the h-human brain. She'd told me that she w-wanted to study n-neurology. She said it was because of what her m-mother died from. She was s-so determined, so f-focused. She wasn't into the daily g-gossip or pop-fads. She was b-beautiful and smart, unfettered by the normal t-teenage drama. She already knew w-what she w-wanted to do with her life. I f-fell in love with her. She w-was my hero. I w-wanted to tell her h-how I felt. But I had l-little confidence in t-telling her face to f-face. S-so I wrote her a l-letter.

"It was the n-night before our sophomore y-year started. I s-snuck through her front gate, went up t-to the door, and took out my envelope. I w-was about to slip it through the s-slot when I heard a s-scream. It s-sounded like s-someone was screaming and r-running around the house. I f-followed the sound until I heard multiple r-raised voices. I went to the back of the house and walked up the s-steps and peeked through the k-kitchen door w-window. I saw Sasha. She w-was waving her hands and yelling, 'She's walking! She's walking!' Then I saw Dr. Perry b-bend down and yell as w-well. I turned over a b-bucket and s-stood on top of it s-so I could g-get a better look. Then I saw it, a l-little green turtle w-walking on two legs. It w-was wearing a diaper over its shell. When Sasha p-picked it up, I saw its face. It w-was cute and had Sasha's h-hazel eyes. I was so surprise that I l-lost m-my balance and fell b-back and hit m-my head on the s-steps.

"W-when I had woken up, I w-was in the den. Dr. Perry was s-sitting next to me and Sasha was s-standing by the door. They b-both looked g-grim. I d-didn't know if I should have t-told them what I saw or j-just keep silent. B-but then I felt tiny hands t-tugging at the bottom of m-my pants. It was the b-baby turtle. Dr. Perry said that her n-name was Anya and that she was v-very special. I r-reached out my hand and Anya g-grabbed it firmly. She l-looked just like a baby. Sasha c-came over to me and adjusted the ice-bag on the b-back of my h-head. She'd asked m-me if I was alright and I'd told her that I felt w-wonderful. When I'd s-spoken, we'd realize my s-stutter had diminished s-significanlty… m-must have been me f-falling on my h-head a f-few minutes ago."

"Um, I don't mean to offend but, your speech impediment was worse?" I ask.

"No o-offence taken. Yes, b-before my fall, I c-couldn't get a simple s-sentence out without my t-tongue tying in knots. That's why I l-liked to write. M-my thoughts never f-faltered on p-paper. I patted Anya on her cool green head and th-thanked her for c-curing me. That night I p-promised them that I w-wouldn't tell anyone about Anya. After their nanny p-past around tea, I h-had spent another hour playing with Anya and l-listening to Dr. Perry tell the story about her c-coming to be. It w-wasn't until the n-next morning that I r-realized that my l-love letter to Sasha was missing. W-when I met her at the bus stop, she hadn't m-mentioned it. The n-next summer, Sasha had graduated early and w-was off to c-college. W-when I'd told Dr. Perry that I would go to m-medical school as well, he p-pulled me aside and s-spoke to me quietly. He took out the l-love letter I'd written a year ago and handed it b-back to me. He said that I should be a writer, and n-not a doctor. He t-told me to follow m-my own dreams and b-become the best at w-what I was n-naturally blessed with…But I didn't listen. I'd f-follow Sasha wherever she w-went.

"S-She was twenty-two when she received h-her doctorates. Two months l-later Dr. Perry died. I w-was by her s-side the whole time. I was h-helping her clear out her f-father's things and I f-found one of his diaries. Inside was a list of n-names; p-people Sasha should c-contact to h-help her keep his f-foundation going and f-find the cure of cures. There w-were m-maps and blueprints and all t-types of s-secret paraphernalia. Once she s-saw what her father h-had left her, I knew she'd b-be leaving England, be leaving me. So I did w-what I h-had to do to s-stay by her side…"

I blinked at the realization of what he'd been trying to tell me. "You added you name to the list. Why would you do that? Were you really that infatuated with her? You think maybe there was a good reason as to why Dr. Perry didn't add you to his list?"

"I had to be w-with her. Besides, I knew h-he trusted me. I n-never told anyone about A-Anya. That list was m-meant to call together those who c-could help Sasha run this facility and create P-Protagen. I s-studied hard as h-hell to get my d-docterate. So w-when she finally called me, I'd be r-ready to help her anyway t-that I could."

"Being trusted to keep a secret and being trusted to get the job done are two different things, you know?" I say and he doesn't respond. "I have a question, Troy… when did you finally confess your love?"

"Two days ago; that m-morning when you s-saw me l-leave her p-penthouse. I told her, then t-tried to kiss her and then she s-slapped me and told me t-to leave."

_That explains why they were moody the next day._ "But, again, what does this have to do with me?"

He looks up at me like he was disgusted with or confused by me and my question. I'm definitely missing something. He stands up and runs a hand over his face. "She's not being r-reasonable. It's one thing having to r-raise a m-mutant child as your own but quite another to change y-your whole l-life because of s-someone else's mistake."

I exhale harshly and stand up straight as well. "Start making sense right now or I'm leaving."

He tries to take a step back from my warning, but we are in a little bathroom and if I wanted to hit him I'd probably hurt us both. He takes a gulp. "After you create Protagen, y-you m-must take Anya w-with you so that Sasha and I can m-move back to England and g-get on with our lives."

"Oh, I see now. You think that Dr. Perry bringing Anya into the world was a mistake and Sasha can't be with you and live a normal life because she will always need to consider her mutant daughter."

"Of course!" Troy shouts. It looks like he wants to pace but, still, there is very little room in here. "Please understand. Sasha h-has never had a chance t-to be normal or l-live a normal childhood. Her m-mother died when she was young, and when she is f-finally found by her f-father she had to l-live a secret l-ife, raising a m-mutant turtle. Every thing Sasha w-wanted to do had to be altered or f-forgotten, all because she had to k-keep Anya s-safe. I w-was so glad to h-have m-met you, because I now am t-totally sure that we each h-have a reason for b-being here. Y-you have to cure Sasha by eradicating the FFI f-from her genes. Once she has a c-clean bill of health she'll realize that she c-can finally have a f-full, long life with m-me. And since y-you are Sasha's b-biological donor, she can go live with you and b-be among her own k-kind, never again f-feeling like an outcast."

"But, Anya told me that Sasha had sold the estate, she never planned on going back to England. And Sasha loves her daughter and would never just drop her off on me like some warden of the state… If anything Sasha plans on… oh I get it. I GET IT!" I say in my 'eureka moment' voice. I look at Troy with pity. "I know what this is about. It's more likely that once we have Protagen, Sasha will want to stay close to me and my family so that Anya can have a family that looks like her, and who understand what it's like to be a mutant."

"P-please understand m-me when I say that I think you and y-your family deserve to l-live your l-life as happy and f-free as these times allow. B-but you and I know that you are not n-normal. That is a r-reality Sasha r-refuses to grasp. I believe Anya w-would be safe with you. And y-yes, I believe Sasha would be s-safer without her."

"I think the real issue you have is that YOU won't be able to have a normal life with Sasha as long as she has Anya."

"It's the t-truth!"

"Sasha loves her as her own child! She won't just walk away!"

"I w-would never had suggested it if it w-weren't for you! You're practically her f-father!"

"You're so selfish!"

"I'm being r-realistic!"

"Does Sasha even love you?"

_Where did that question come from? _

Troy and I share the same awkward look and he frowns. "That's an-nother thing…I think… she's just c-confused."

"Confused about what?"

Troy sighs roughly. "Spending t-time around someone as unique as y-you, your exotic ph-physique, your a-atypical demeanor, one can get c-caught up in the n-newness you bring to one's atmosphere… and that c-can d-distort one's ability to know what is j-just excitement and try to c-call it s-something else."

"All that to say… I've been here almost three weeks and you think Sasha already has a 'false' crush on me because I'm different?"

"That's exactly w-what I'm s-saying."

I've had enough. He's not apologizing; he's not trying to make amends. He's trying to strike a deal behind the back of the one he 'allegedly' loves so that he can have his 'happy ending'. I reach for and open the door. I shut it back slightly and turn to him. "Before you ask, I'm not going to tell Sasha about this conversation. With people like you, the truth will come out sooner or later…you said that she spent her entire adolescence with you. All that time you spent together, and all you got was slapped in the face. I think your theory is wrong again, Doctor. Goodbye."

I leave and head to the rec-room and start my day.

…

"Donnie, you have an incoming call from Anya, would you like to connect?" Andrew's voice hums from my S-Wrist.

"Yes." I say.

A moment later, "Hi, Mr. Donnie! How are you?"

"I'm fine, sunshine. What's up?"

"You sound a little out of breathe." She says.

"I'm in the Rec-room. Just got finished working out a bit."

"You're in the Rec-room? Hold on!"

I look at the device on my wrist and the call has been disconnected. Just then the Screen Time on the wall comes to life and a woman's voice speaks. "There is an incoming call from Anya. Would you like to connect? Please specify video or just audio."

"Uh, Yes. Video, please."

The screen lights up and I see Anya standing there. She's smiling and swaying side to side, not intending to hide her excitement. She's wearing a yellow and white striped poncho tied at the scooping neckline with a butterfly pin. In the background I see a very spoiled child's bedroom. There are toys galore, white bookcases completely filled and about three other window-sized Screen Time monitors on her walls, displaying white puffy clouds, a red flowery field… and a galloping Pegasus.

"Hello, again." She says.

"Hello."

"Mr. Donnie, I wanted to tell you that I've finished all of my homework this morning."

"That's very astute of you."

"And I finished reading the next chapters in all three of the books you requested."

"What a good student you are… what do you want?"

"I… what do you mean?"

"Anya, I may not have a lot of experience with little girls but I was a little boy not too long ago… so I know that you're trying to butter me up for something." I cross my arms and smile at her.

"Mr. Donnie, I…you…"

"Burst your little bubble?" She stands there silently on screen. Her expression is priceless. "Anya, you never have to build me up before you make a request. I'd never turn you away."

"Then you'll say yes?" She lights up.

"I didn't say that." I get that out quickly. "Whether it be yes or no, I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything and I won't think you're a weirdo… Now, what is it that you want?"

She bites her lip and runs her fingers along the fringes of her silky poncho. "Instead of having lunch today, would you like to have dinner here me?"

That is weird, but I don't show it. "That sounds great. I'd love to have dinner with you… and your mom?"

"Oh yes, she'll be around." I didn't think her smile could get that wide. "I only know how to make spaghetti, so we'll be eating that."

"That too, is great. I love spaghetti."

"Ok."

"Ok."

"Ok. See you at eight. Wear something nice. Goodbye." The screen fades out.

Was I that awkward? Even if I was, I surely wasn't as cute as she is. I wonder what exactly she has planned.

I head to the shower, and then gather my things. Lab time goes by quickly. I stroll to the dining hall for a late lunch with Gleiv and Truth. We have a hilarious time.

…

Maybe 'hilarious' isn't the right word for how I perceive my current situation. A few minutes ago Gleiv was telling a funny childhood story that had Truth and I crying. Truth and I share our own stories from when we were kids, but Gleiv had us beat. They both share similar characteristics of my brothers. It had been a comforting feeling. I had been enjoying myself…

I really don't know how the conversation turned into this. I feel completely embarrassed and grossly inexperienced. I slurp my soup silently as the black Brit and the Brooklyn blonde boast back and forth about their sexual escapades. I am at a lost how to comment, add or contribute, and I'm sure as hell not going to ask any questions!

"Ugandan supermodel at a Turkish disco-tech, New Years eve." Gleiv begins.

"German racecar driver, in her car, doing 150mph." Truth retorts.

"Italian beauty, in a nunnery, still wearing her nun clothes on Sunday morning after a funeral." Gleiv returns.

"Two busty Brazilians in a Barbados bungalow after three bottles of bourbon." Truth counters.

"The Vice president of India after saving her son from guerilla terrorists!" Gleiv challenges.

"Three mayors, a counsel woman and two judges… never again spent a night in jail." Truth, KO.

Gleiv's jaw drops and I loose another spoon. We look at Truth's smug face and she stares directly at me. _Oh no!_

"You've been awfully quiet, Don. I'm sure in your line of work you have some crazy, off the wall spicy stories to share." Truth glares.

I almost swallow my tongue. "I, um, don't really…"

"No need to be shy, Gov. I wager you could give us one or two…" Gleiv grins behinds his cup of tea.

"I really couldn't…"

"Drop the gentleman-turtle shit, Don!" Truth goads with a devilish smile. "I bet you done some freaky stuff. You, runnin' over rooftops, kickin' ass and savin' chicks. I bet you got a few 'thank you very muches' in many a dark alley… maybe you hopped into a few lonely ladies' open windows and fulfilled some alien fantasies?"

"W-what?! I never, I would never…"

"Maybe he just has a handful of women he frequently visits. I don't see Gov as the type of guy to allow his 'little turtle roam wherever it may'." Gleiv chuckles. "Maybe he has a special rooftop or secret loft he and his lovelies go to have hot steamy inter-species sex."

"Gleiv!" I say in much too high a voice.

"Or maybe…" Truth says with a gasp, as if something just came to mind. "Don being a ninja and all, maybe he's a monk and don't dabble in the sin of the flesh… or…"

This is torture! I want to get up and walk away, but I'm sickly curious as to what she's going to say next… so is Gleiv.

"Maybe…" Truth continues. "Don and his brothers are… more than brothers?" She says with speculation.

The intense heat of anger and repulsion overloads by brain and I find myself completely shutting down… … … Once my eyes reboot and the blood settles out of my head; I see Gleiv and Truth standing. He is yelling at her and she crosses her arms and shakes her head.

"…would you let something like that drop out of your grimy mouth?!" Gliev chastens.

Truth shrugs in defense. "I ain't grimy, Gleiv! You and I may think Don is totally fuckable but it don't mean the rest of the world is gonna agree. He's a turtle AND he's a man! And a man got urges and it would make sense if the only ones he can turn to is his…."

"Don't you say it again, Abigail!" Gleiv spits.

"Don't you call me by that terrible name!"

"What a card you are!" Gleiv raises his hands in disbelief. "I can't call you by your ugly first name but it's perfectly nosh for you to say that Don noodles his mates?!"

"Alright you two, shut your blarney traps!" We turn and look over at Devin clearing out the lunch bar. "Mr. Gleiv, Ms. Truth, you both sound like two drunken fools at the saddest pub on a Monday morning! Pipe down and leave Donnie be!" She crows.

"Yes, mum." Gleiv hums.

"Sorry, Ms. D." Truth murmurs.

_Thank you Nannie McGaff!_ I take my tray and throw away my scraps. As I walk out of the dining hall I wave my acceptance of Truth and Gleiv's apologies and head back to the lab… I am thankful that dinner will be NOTHING like this!

…

**A/N: Oh my… just a mixture of things going on for Donnie today! Any comments?**


	11. The Dinner

I like wearing clothes. I never would have bothered before. My plastron and carapace sufficiently cover my immodesty. But now that I have a choice, it would be rude not to indulge. I choose a crisp, lilac button-down shirt with a nice stiff collar. Ms. Devin has outdone herself. Matched with some wrinkle-free gray slacks, I feel… good.

Andrew announces that it is five minutes until eight. I check my outfit once more and head out the door. I reach the elevator, raise my palm and announce my arrival. The door opens and I ascend.

…

The smell of rich and savory food fills my senses as I step into the first floor of the penthouse.

Anya bounces down the spiral staircase. She's wearing a red, tufted ballerina-type skirt that cuts just above her knees. Around her neck is a red, silk scarf tied into a bow resting over her left shoulder. Her finger and toe nails are polished in a shiny pink lacquer and are her ears… pierced? Yeah, two tiny pearls dot either side of her head. She looks like Christmas day. She greets me with a bright, gapped smile. "Good evening Mr. Donnie. How are you? I like your shirt."

"Good evening Anya. I'm very well, thanks, and you look very lovely."

Her face grows darker and she purses her lips in a big grin. Something 'dings' in the kitchen. "Ooh! The Italian bread is ready! You can sit at the table Mr. Donnie. Dinner is almost ready!" Anya runs off to the kitchen.

"Ok." I say. "Where's your mom?" I ask a little louder.

"Right here!" Sasha calls from atop the stairs. I take in every detail of her as she ascends. Her short brunette coif of hair that usually curves up in a gravity-defying bang is smoothed down and parted to the side. Her hazel eyes burn brightly surrounded by their smoky gray lids and midnight mascara. Her lips have been dipped in deep rouge. The train of her form-hugging, emerald, satin gown shimmers; it brings out the pale luster of her bare arms and revealing chest. A Russian beauty if I ever saw one… I feel overwhelmed and underdressed.

As she walks toward me the high slit of her dress shows off one sculptured leg and a high golden stiletto. I take more time than I should have trailing up her body to look her in the eye and smile. "Hello, Sasha."

"Good evening Donnie. Are you done with today's work already?"

"I, uh..."

"Mother, you look positively gorgeous! Don't you think Mr. Donnie?" Anya jumps out of the kitchen with a small platter of warm, covered bread.

"I couldn't have said it better." I say as I look at Sasha; a warm blush splashes over her nose.

"Great. Let's eat before dinner gets cold." Anya dashes to the dining area.

Sasha grins at me and crosses her arms. "I'm sorry. I suppose she invited you to dinner and I am just now finding out."

I nod. "Ah, well…" I laugh. "This is kind of awkward… what do you think she's planning?"

"I suppose we'll find out." Sasha walks toward the dining area. "You are still joining us?"

"Of course." I gulp and follow her.

Anya has decorated the glass table beautifully; there is a gold table runner, crisp, white, square plates, a bowl of fresh spring greens, mixed with dried cranberries, gorgonzola and walnuts, buttered garlic bread, and a large platter filled with spaghetti topped with a thick red sauce and fresh Romano.

Anya pulls out a chair for her mother, and ushers me to sit across from her. Anya pours chilled grape juice into our finely etched crystal goblets. She sits at the head of the table and looks at her mother and then at me. "When you are at home, Mr. Donnie, what do you say to begin the meal?"

"Well…" I look down as I place the fancy napkin in my lap. "My father usually blesses the food and then we all dig in… how do you begin?" I ask.

"We say, _'My blagodarim za etu yedu'_. It means, 'We are thankful for this food.' But I'd like to do it your way tonight, if you don't mind." Anya bows her head, closes her eyes and waits.

"Okay." I close my eyes and try to remember my father's words. "We are thankful for family and we are thankful for peace. We are thankful for this food that we share with our family in peace. We bless the hands that prepared this food with strength and peace;" I open my eyes and frown. "May this time bring joy to us all."

"May this time bring joy to us all." Anya responds. She looks to me and I can't help but to find my smile again.

We take our portion of bread and salad. Anya holds out her plate and invites me to serve her some spaghetti; I do the same for Sasha. It all tastes really good and I dutifully compliment Anya between bites. I take a breath from my munching and clear my throat. My eyes keep glancing at Sasha. She is striking… and I notice Anya keeps grinning at me. I take a sip of my juice. "So, why are you two so dressed up? Do you usually do the 'red carpet' thing for dinner?"

"No, not really." Sasha offers. "It is something special Anya and I do from time to time. Holidays, birthdays, 'just because' days." She smiles, somewhat sadly, at Anya. "You can probably tell that we don't get out too much. I'm very busy and I know you understand that it's just safer this way."

I nod and twirl around that last of the noodles on my plate. "Well, I am very happy to be invited to such a special dinner. Thank you, Anya."

"Sure." She says brightly. "It's the least I could do. Here you go." She says as she places another heap of saucy, cheesy noodles on my plate. "You've been such a great instructor. I'm learning so much by you being here… I'm sure my mother appreciates you being here too, don't you, Mother?"

"Yes, of course I do." She looks at me then looks away and smiles.

"Wonderful!" Anya says as she serves another helping onto her mother's plate. "You two just continue on without me. I'll be back to check on you a bit later."

Anya quickly leaves the table. Suddenly the lights dim, the wall-sized Screen Time awakens, displaying a crackling fireplace, and smooth jazz rises into the air. _Is this Kenny G? _

My attempt to hide my growing grin fails. I lay my utensils aside and look at Sasha, wanting to share my discomfort and amusement. But she looks very sad for some reason. "What's wrong?" I ask softly.

She looks over at me and purses her lips. She finishes the rest of her grape juice in one gulp; probably wishing it was something stronger. "My daughter is setting herself up for a big disappointment."

"I don't know. It's an adorably innocent gesture. Although I have to admit my palms are getting sweaty and I'm fighting the urge to ask you about your favorite books and movies." I chuckle.

"As much as I wish this was a joking matter, I have to explain something very clearly to you." She rests her hands on the table and looks me in the eye. "You and I are never going to happen."

I'm surprised she feels the need to say this. I tilt my head to the side. "With all do respect, Doctor, I have not forgotten how I ended up her. I have not forgotten what you've done to me. I have not forgotten that you threatened my family with devolution if I refused to help you find what potentially could add decades to your life. I'm trying to survive. I never put on a façade when I speak to you or anyone else here. I honestly want to enjoy myself. And I have been. It's starting to feel less and less like a hostage situation. So please, don't misinterpret my resigned demeanor as anything more than it is. You do not have to convince me to keep my feelings in check."

I can't tell if she's angry or hurt. _And why would she be hurt?_

"Good." She says. "What do you think of her?"

Her, being Anya. "I think she's an amazing child. I look at her and I still can't believe she exists."

Sasha nods. "She is very amazing. It was hard though, raising a little girl by myself. Well, not all by myself. I did have Devin, but I felt solely responsible for Anya. I needed to protect her and keep her away from everyone, all the while trying to give her a normal life. She has no real friends; she can never go to the museum or the playground. I was all she had afer my father died. Sasha was only six; she took his death hard. She didn't speak for about a month. She floated around the house, playing and reading but never said a word to me. Then one morning she just started talking again, I don't know why. I guess she was just ready." She lays her hand over mine and I unconsciously grasp her fingers. Did I do it because we were talking about Anya, or did I just want to touch her? After what I said about my feelings not being affected, I wonder now who I was trying to convince. "Donnie, the relationship you have with Anya should only get stronger. I want her to know what it feels like to be around people who look like her; to relish in the sense of belonging. I will never be able to give her that. All I've done is shelter her; she probably thinks that I'd been ashamed of her at some time or another…"

"We both know Anya's smarter than that. She understands her situation. And she loves you very much."

"That makes this matter all the more complicated." Sasha shifts in her chair and places both of her hands over mine. She looks down at her grasp and frowns. "You understand that as you and Anya get closer, you're going to becoming very important to her. And I am her mother so…"

"So she thinks that it would only be natural for us to be together, so that she can have us both. I get that. I think Anya will be happy just seeing us together; showing her that in spite of our differences, we will be there for her. Nothing more would need to happen."

She whispers. "But she would be much better off with just you."

I squint my eyes in confusion. "I… I hope you're not saying what I think you are."

"You know what she's going through, being a mutant turtle yourself. You have walked in her footsteps. You would be a much better help than I… I had a long talk with Troy and…"

"Let me stop you right there." I remove my hand from her hold. "I also had a shifty conversation with Troy, I recorded it too. I listened to it over and over and I still came to the same conclusion… I do not like that man. He is no good for Anya and I thought he was no good for you, but now I have my doubts." I push away my plate and stand. I don't mean to get louder but I can't help it. "Don't think I can't empathize about the sacrifices you've made by having Anya in your shadow. You probably missed out on a lot of opportunities for love and companionship. And as beautiful as you are, there probably aren't a lot of guys who would accept a mutant turtle as their stepchild. So it isn't amazing to me that you find the kid's biological father, me, so you can dump her on me and finally begin your human life with your human boyfriend Troy and bask in the abundance of normalcy you both so richly deserve!"

She stands and slaps me smartly across my cheek. She yells at me sharply in a barrage of Russian words that do not sound very nice.

I rub the side of my face tenderly. "No hablo Russian." I mumble.

"I called you a pretentious ass! How dare you assume Anya is just a burden that I cannot WAIT to get rid of! She is the only thing in my life that matters!"

"Oh, well then I'm thoroughly confused! So you're not slowly trying to replace yourself with me? It sounds like you're making plans to leave!"

"I will never run out on her! I will be her mother until I die!"

"Then why are you pushing her so hard toward me? And why are you pushing so desperately away from me?"

"You are better for her than me…! And I am definitely not the one that you should get close to."

We both turn to the sound of a small gasp. Anya looks at us with big eyes. She's holding a silver tray of red and white heart-shaped jell-o molds surrounded by chocolate kisses.

Sasha folds her arms and looks down. I remember every word Troy had said to me. He thinks that Sasha may have fallacious feelings for me because of Anya. If that were true, then why does she insist on keeping me at an associative distance? You'd think she would at least want to be friendly for Anya's sake. I really don't want Sasha to stop talking to me, and things weird again. I step around the table and place my hands on her shoulders. She won't look at me.

I whisper. "I can never replace you. Anya would never have that…" Sasha starts to warm in my hands. She looks at me with glassy eyes. I forget what I was going to say next. So I just say something stupid. "Let's just take things slow. After all of this is over, and I finish my work here helping you with this Protagen project, maybe you and Anya could come and meet my family. Perhaps you two could find a place nearby. I'd really like that… so maybe we can try to be friends for now."

She calms at my words and she almost smiles. Then she looks at Anya and gives her what looks like an apologetic frown. Something sparks in her eyes and she grimaces at me. "Why would your family want to meet the person that kidnapped one of their sons and lost one of their brothers?" Sasha says with a hint of venom. "How you and I interact has nothing to do with Anya. You play your part in her life and I will play mine. You will never forget what I did to you and your family. You had better not forget that I am the one who took Leonardo away from you… take your hands off of me." She hisses. "I said get let go of me!" She screams and jerks away.

Anya looks at her mother with hurt. She slams the tray crashing to the floor. She runs upstairs.

"Anya, wait!" Sasha picks up the hem of her gown and takes up after her daughter. I slowly follow.

…

By the time I get upstairs Anya is screaming at her mother from behind the door. Sasha is softly coercing her. Anya gets more and more agitated. She repeats something over and over. The door opens and Sasha exits. She walks past me and heads for another door. Tears are falling down her face, the mascara warning to become a mess. Sasha opens the door to her own room.

"She only wants to talk to you." Sasha closes her door.

I'm stuck between two crying women. I should probably make a run for it but decide to rap on Anya's door. When she doesn't answer I turn the knob… _hmm there ARE regular doors in this place_. I peek inside. "Anya?" I look around. Her room is dark in muted pinks, blues and purples glowing from the slender Screen Times hanging on her walls. I step in and leave the door cracked. I find her sitting on the floor against a wall. I walk toward her and take in the expanse of her room; a pillow infested bed, an art table and a workbench littered with gadgets, and a tiny house filled with bald, green Barbie dolls. I slide down next to her. I look down at our outstretched legs and bare feet. My pair may be on a larger scale but they look almost identical to hers. I rest my hands in the plush carpet and shrug my shoulders.

"I'm sorry Anya."

"What are sorry for? All I saw was you trying to comfort my mother and her screaming at you and pushing you away." She says with obvious anger.

Kids…

While we were arguing, I didn't have time to process what Sasha was actually saying to me. It sounded like she wants me to hate her but still be close with Anya. Funny thing, I don't want to hate her. I place more blame on myself than I do her about Leo. And she doesn't want to be friends with me because she's guilty about what she's done and what she's doing… Maybe she has a hard time forgiving herself. Or maybe she really doesn't want me to show her any kindness. Does she deserve kindness from me? I don't know. Even if she did inadvertently disrupt my family forever… I still kind of like her. She's not a bad person. She just wants a chance to be healthy enough to see her daughter become an adult. I want to give her that chance. I suppose I'll have to tell Sasha this later.

Anya is my focus now. She must be really upset to yell at her mother like that. Her little match-making plan seemed to go to shambles.

I nudge her in the elbow. "I think I hurt your mom's feelings by some of the things I said. I was wrong and I need to apologize to you and to her."

"It looks like you were trying to apologize, but she wanted none of it."

"But didn't you just do the same thing when she came up here to talk to you?"

Anya sighs and tilts her head away from me. "I know but, can't she see how important this is to me?"

"What's important to you?"

"Keeping you." she says.

"Keeping me?"

"Yes, because you are a mutant like me." She says somberly. She studies her feet, wiggling them. "I didn't realize I was different until I found one of Nannie's magazines in the kitchen back in England. I took it up to my room and looked at all the pictures of beautiful women. Their skin was all different colors and their hair all different lengths… but none of them looked like me." She glances up at me and gives a weak smile. "I don't even have hair." She turns away and wraps her hands around her knees. "Mother always tells me I am beautiful, no matter how different I look. But I thought that once I grew up, my shell would fall off, my skin would turn pink and my hair would grow… I'd look just like my mother. I'd really be beautiful then… But I know better now."

I'm at a loss for words. She's only ten and she's being so existential, already questioning her place in the world, questioning how others may view her, if she'll be accepted. This is the first time I hate how smart she is. I'm sure Sasha had hoped her daughter wouldn't have to deal with such teenage drama until Anya was actually a teenager.

She sniffles her little nose and shifts her posture. I hear paper rustle underneath her.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Nothing!" She scrambles to hide the paper under her right arm but I swiftly reach around her and snatch it away before she can protest.

I hold it up where she cannot reach. "Is it too personal to share with me?" I tease.

"No… it's just a stupid dream I have, uh had… Please don't be mad, Mr. Donnie! I was just…"

"I won't open it if you don't want me to. It's ok to have some secrets to yourself." I look down at her.

She lowers her hands and sits back against the wall. She exhales. "It's ok."

"Ok." I unfold her thin piece of construction paper and see what she had been hiding.

It's a drawing.

Colored pencil on fibered, recycled paper; a drawing of a woman with short brown hair, wearing a white coat holding the right hand of a little, green, smiling girl… and a tall dark green man holding the girl's left hand. The woman and man's outer arms unnaturally stretch over their heads, toward each other, in an arc, holding hands. The woman has a ring on her finger. Their forms are surrounded by the frame of a house and the only furniture present is a bookcase full of colorful books. Outside of the stick-figure house are bushes and trees and a huge yellow sun. At the bottom of the drawing is one word.

Family.

Her voice comes in soft and shaky. "Maybe one day we can be like this. Maybe that's why Mother was looking for you… to complete us. It's not that Mother isn't enough for me… but I've dreamt for so long that there must be more out there… and then I met you."

Then she takes a leap.

"Maybe you could just forgive her for bringing you here and you two could go on some dates and really come to like each other… and maybe you could ask her to marry you… once you fall in love." She was quick to say. "I know you don't love each other yet. It did scare me a little, when you two were yelling at each other. I heard you from the kitchen, but families fight all the time… maybe if you both try, you could fall in love."

I look down at her beside me. I can tell she's been thinking about this a lot. She's such a sheltered and innocent child, even if she is brilliant. "Anya…" I say as I carefully fold up her drawing. "I don't think a couple of 'dates' will make Sasha and I fall… You see, love…" I have no idea what I'm talking about. "Love is a very strong emotion. It is a very complex thing and it's difficult to just start 'feeling it' toward someone. It can take a very long time… if it ever happens."

She shakes her head. "No, you're wrong." I never thought I'd hear her say that to me. "Love isn't hard. It's easy." She looks up at me, her golden eyes shimmering bright through her tears. "I loved you the first time I saw you. And I love you so much that I want you to stay and be part of my family, Mr. Donnie."

I never understood it when Mikey said that his brain turned to mush whenever his girl, Arimi, requested something of him. It didn't matter how strange or strenuous her desire, when Arimi cooed at my brother a certain way, he'd have died trying to give her the moon…

_I understand it now._

I wrap my arm around Anya's slender shoulders and pull her into a firm, but gentle, hug, pressed to my side. "Anya…"

_I love you too._

"You can just call me Donnie… ok?"

I feel her nod.

"Anya, I would want nothing more than for us to be a family." I chuckle. "But I can't promise you that Sasha and I will be 'tying the knot' anytime soon." I can feel her shoulders slouch. "But you never know. Stranger things have happened. I know it to be true that no two families are alike. I also know that forcing things to go a certain way doesn't always help. I told you before that things somehow work themselves out." I perch her chin under my hand and have her face me. I tap my finger on the crest of her nose and she smiles. "Kiddo, you're one in a million."

She giggles. "Actually, I was one in six point nine billion… With you, now the odds don't bother me as much."

_How did she burrow so deep into my heart so quickly?_

We sit there along the wall of her room a few minutes more. If I had ever wanted a little sister while growing up, she would be exactly like Anya. She would be charming, inquisitive, quick-witted, and cute as a button. I would answer all of her questions, make her a piping cup of cocoa whenever she asked and keep big, mean brother Raph from bullying her too much. No, Raph would love her too.

I would love her to death and give my last breath to keep her safe. Is that how I really feel about Anya? Like her big brother? I don't think that's how she sees me. From the picture she drew, she's placing me as a father figure in her life above anything else, which is quite accurate, since Professor Perry did use half of my DNA to create her. I can't even be mad at him. I'm surprisingly thrilled. I want to visit his grave and tip my imaginary hat to his headstone, thanking him. Watching as the child falls asleep in my arms, breathing evenly, being comforted by my presence, without fear or hatred, warms me all over.

I see the light of the hallway pour in and Sasha quietly enters. Her face is clean and her hair is messy. She's wearing a cotton nightgown and fluffy socks. She stands by the dresser and I look up at her. I wonder what she's thinking, watching her turtle daughter be comforted by her turtle 'father'. After everything that's happened tonight, I assume her to be happy. She steps over my legs and bends down on the other side of Anya. She caresses the dried tears over her soft green skin and kisses the top of her head. I look over at her.

"I'm sorry for what I said, Sasha." I barely whisper.

Sasha gets to her feet and opens the second drawer of Anya's dresser. She pulls out a long, pajama shirt covered in stars. "Help me get her to bed." She murmurs. She hands me the shirt. Sasha undoes the big red bow around Anya's neck and delicately removes the pearls from the pierced holes under her ear canals. She drapes the scarf on the bedpost and places the studs inside a red jewelry box on top of the dresser. She lifts the girl's hands in the air. I turn to the side and fit the top over her head and arms. Sasha motions to me and I lift Anya off the floor. Sasha pulls off Anya's red, ruffled skirt and lays it on a plush chair. She walks back across the room and turns down the bed. I rest Anya's head gracefully on top of a pillow and Sasha tucks her in. She kisses her head once more and we close the door behind us.

Once in the hall, Sasha heads straight to her bedroom door but I reach for her hand.

"Just let me go to bed, Donatello." She sounds a smidge irritated.

"Not until you hear me out."

"I don't deserve an explanation."

"I'm never going to hate you." I say to her. "The way I see it, you and Anya are a package deal. I can't be close to one and not make room for the other."

She turns around and stares at me. She opens her mouth but snaps it shut. She looks down at my hand around hers. She furrows her brows and shakes her head slowly. She closes her eyes.

_My God woman! Stop with the faces and say something! What the hell is going on in your mind?!_

"Did Troy tell you that he loved me?"

_Not that I believe him but…_

"Yes." I say.

"… Did he tell you that I loved him?"

"Don't you?"

She rolls her eyes and lets out a big puff of air. "He has a hard time letting go of the past. Yes, he was there for me in some really dark times. He encouraged me all the way through medical school… He doesn't know that I know, but he was going to propose to me after I got my PhD."

"Why didn't he?"

"My father died."

I nod. I look down and I'm still holding her hand. Heck, if she doesn't mind, then I don't. "Did Troy end up asking you later?"

"No. I had found the letter and the ring box under his bed. Anya was hiding under there so, no, I wasn't snooping. I had always wondered why he hadn't asked me. But I was also relieved that he never did… I just never saw him in that way. Which, I had thought, was really unfortunate for me because that meant I'd probably never find anyone else who would love me and my little girl… I loved Troy because he was my friend and the only other person who knew about Anya. In the long run, I know I hurt him by never telling him my true feelings and just kept him close because I was selfish." She looks down at our hands and rubs her thumb along mine. "I think I just recently figured out why he never asked me to marry him."

"Why?" I ask.

"In Troy's mind, if I'd have said yes to his proposal, Anya would have stayed with my father. Troy and I would be free to live as we please and start our own normal family. But my father died and Troy knew that I would never leave Anya."

Well, it all makes sense to me now. If I take Anya home with me, Troy's 'happily ever after' with Sasha can still be a reality. "Sasha, you have to cut that sorry man loose."

"I've finally told him. I told him that I don't love him in that way. He thinks I'm… not thinking clearly." She says flatly.

_He thinks you have a crush on me… wait... Do you?!_

_No._

_Does she?_

At the risk of sounder uber conry. "Well, no matter how hopeless he may be, he does have good taste."

"I'm not worth it." She says.

"Ugh, not worth what? A tiny, harmless compliment?"

"No, especially not from you."

I roll my eyes. "If you're not worth it, then why am I trapped here trying to cure your potentially life-threatening disease?"

"I love Anya… and I mean something to her, in the same way my mother meant something to me."

I release her hand and run my palms over my face with a sigh. "Sasha, how about we do this? Let's pretend that all the weird stuff that happened tonight didn't happen. Let's just say that we had a wonderful dinner with a wonderful little girl, shook hands and said goodnight. From this moment forward I will shoulder all of the blame and ignore all of the stupid reasons you've given me to loathe your existence and, instead, treat you like the good-natured person I know you are. I admit you've given me fair warning but I choose to ignore it. Tomorrow morning I am going to smile at you and wish you a good morning because I want to… I hope you smile at me and greet me in return. We'll have a good, productive day in the lab and after the day is done hopefully you won't still feel like maiming yourself if I wish you a goodnight as well… how does that sound?"

"I would like that very much." She says without hesitation.

I try not to act too surprised but I smile. I walk toward her and reach around her and open her bedroom door, gently pushing her inside. "Goodnight Sasha."

"Goodnight." She says. She closes her door and I head downstairs. The music is off and the crackling fireplace is replaced with a colorful, rotating nebula. I reach the elevator and hear someone 'psst' at me from the stairs. I turn and see Sasha pointing toward the kitchen.

"Take the container of leftovers I placed on the counter for you." She quietly calls.

I go back to the kitchen and take the plastic box filled with spaghetti and a piece of bread. I turn to wave in thanks but she's already gone.

On the way back to my room I keep thinking about all of the times we've been around each other. It seems like every time Sasha starts to get comfortable with me, she does something or says something to try to distance herself. At first I was angry and thought she was just being mean, but I noticed the pattern and was finally able to call her out on it. I hope she really listened to what I was saying and stops wasting her time trying to evoke feels of hatred in me that aren't even there. I want her to laugh with me and joke with me. I want… I can't believe this… I want her to allow herself to like me… I want her true feelings to show without fear of rejection. I need to know what she really thinks of me… Because now I can't stop thinking about her.

…

**A/N: Omgosh! Omgsoh! It's starting to happen! So even though he doesn't know what it will look like yet, Donnie is agreeing to be apart of Anya's life. No deadbeat dads here! Also I think Anya is adorable! I hope I gave enough detail in her little fancy dinner outfit! But you can't force love… and you can't hide it either! Any comments are ALWAYS appreciated!**


	12. The Truth

I am so thankful for this little break; I don't even think twice when Carder brushes past me to get at the lunch bar first. He must have a lot of time on his hands now that he no longer has to monitor my every move. My mind has been racing nonstop over the past week. Every time I feel I'm getting close to a breakthrough with Protagen… Ugh! I find myself going in circles. It's not that it's getting harder … I'm just becoming more tense as the weeks go by. And I think I know what the problem is… or who, to be exact.

I look down and I'm already sitting at the table in the corner. My subconscious has served me a plate of potato soup and a ham sandwich sitting in a bowl. I eat quietly and hum my thanks when Ms. Devin brings me a cup of coffee.

All these blocks of mandatory time make me feel like I'm working a real job. It had felt a bit obtrusive, having to work to the beat of another's drum. But I'm starting not to mind the drum… or the one beating it. And THAT is bothering me. This is what I wanted right? I wanted to become friends with her., for Anya. It had been all for Anya at first. But then I started making excuses. I starting staying late in the lab so I'd HAVE to go meet Sasha in her penthouse. I liked it just being us two, quietly going over my progress, chatting about unimportant things then finding ourselves seated in her living room chittering away about new technologies and theories, making up stupid jokes that only those who read and understood quantum physics would find funny. A few times, we've sat there talking until dawn. Just last night, I had spent hours with her, Anya sandwiched in between us, drinking coffee, tea and cocoa, Anya falling asleep on the couch as we watch Disney's Beauty and the Beast on the wall-sized Screen Time. Sasha and I had knogapg why Anya picked that movie. I had looked at Sasha, humming along to the music and had started to wonder if we were just humoring the little girl or if there was something there that wasn't there before.

Then my mind refocuses on the matter at hand and my personal thoughts dissolve. I fall into the rhythm of the day. I go to the gym and then the lab and promise myself that I will concentrate today, and then I see her and I try to work but I keep thinking of how in the world is she able to make a lab coat look so sexy and the clicks of her heels send chills up my shell and when our eyes meet and when our hands touch and how she speaks makes me melt and I wonder what side of the bed she sleeps on and if she can teach me dirty words in Russian and what her lips feel like and what her mouth tastes like and oh my God I need to cool it and focus and I bet I look like a total weirdo sitting here eating soup from a dish I've been chasing this potato around my plate for the last two minutes where's the pepper this coffee is hot like her eyes why does the coffee remind me of eyes her eyes are bright like polished gold I wonder what types of music she likes and…

"Damn it, Don! Come back to earth!" A rough, female voice yells.

I look up and see Truth waving her hand in my face. I don't think there is any point in wearing fingerless gloves but she's surely found one. "Hello, Abigail."

"Do. Not. Call. Me. That." Truths warns.

"Sorry, I must have been thinking of something."

_Someone._

"Hmph. She says. "Ain't you on a lunch break? Ya don't gotta work right now, handsome."

Carder clears his throat loudly, says something about putting a lizard in a drain and leaves. I swiftly ignore both the compliment and the brush-off. "I think I have the right to be a bit preoccupied, what, with all the needing to find a cure for a terminal disease… It's not that I don't love the challenge, I just wish it were under… better circumstances." I bite my lips and stir my plate of soup, hoping she runs along to go tease someone else… but there really is no one else.

"It's amazing."

"What is?"

"How much Anya favors you, like she's your kid or something."

"Are you saying that all us turtles look alike?" I say comically.

"No." She raises a brow and puts her hands on her hips. "It's the small gap in your teeth, I assume it was bigger when you were younger, and the pattern of your shells, practically identical, minus your battle wounds… Haven't you noticed?"

"Uh, no not really. I don't look back there a whole lot." I say sheepishly. "Half of Anya is from my DNA so, you may be quite accurate, Truth."

"Hmph. It's more than just the looks, it's also in her mannerisms. She's shy like you and… sometimes she can make you feel dumb without trying to be mean, and she stares into space, thinking things beyond most ten year olds. And she loves cocoa. Must be the caffeine. Hell, once she discovers coffee, it's curtains." She smirks at me and I flush. Truth sets her toolbox on the table and takes the seat across from me, obviously wanting to make this a full conversation. "She's bright too. That kid would be a millionaire if she could go on Jeopardy, not that she needs the money. With what Perry left her and Sassy, I'm bettin' she's set for life."

Out of all the things I've been questioning, I've never thought to ask what these people are getting by working here. It can't just be because it's for a good cause. "And how are you, all of you, getting compensated for being here?"

"Five million big ones."

"You each get five million dollars for working here?"

"You do too, probably more."

When do you, or we, get this money?"

She looks at me like I'm stupid. "When are job here is done."

"How long is that?"

Truth lifts her palms up in the air as if she's balancing a scale. "It depends. Until you quit or until you actually make that miracle drug."

I don't want to think about work anymore so I change the subject. "How do you know Dr. Perry?"

She smiles widely and bends her knee up to rest her chin. "Now what makes you think that I knew the late doctor?"

"Well, Dr. Gavnikov said she was given a list of trusted people to whom she should contact. Your name was on the list; so was mine."

Her face shown pure surprise and she cocked her head to the side. "So she showed you the list too? Yeah, I knew Jordan. I used to hook in lower Brooklyn. He was a loyal client, and then my only client."

That explains a lot about her… but Professor!

"Don't look like that, Don. Jordan may have been the smartest man in New York… but he was still a man. And it wasn't just sex. The man liked to talk and tell stories. He paid well for my time, and I liked him. And whenever his pipes needed tendin' I was the one he called on."

_Enough with the innuendoes!_

"I meant actual plumbing, maintenance… AKA 'why I'm here'. Geez, lighten up!"

"I'm… I'm sorry." I sigh. "I just don't really want to remember him like that."

"Like what? Like a real human being, with real wants and desires and faults? Sure, he paid me for my company and it was more than I would have gotten with my certificate from plumbing or electrical school. But he offered me friendship and safety. It wasn't long until we stopped with the physical stuff and became friends. He groomed me into a real gearhead and with my skills, after this, I'll never have to work the streets or in someone's toilet ever again."

I nod my head and look down at my food. My avoidance of the subject must anger her. She bangs on the table and gives me a searing look. "I don't know how you see it Don, but taking this job is a privilege. I wish I could do more for him." She looks away for the first time since talking to me. For the briefest moment, she looks fragile. "So what, I can't talk to my mom or brothers for a few months? This is some top secret shit we're doin'. The risk is too great to let anyone else know where we are or what's at stake. And like it or not, you're our all-star player. And if this works… if you succeed, it'll change the world." She reaches over and places a hand over mine that is idly stirring a spoon. "Don, if there's a reason why he put an ex-prostitute plumber on the list of his most-trusted people, then I know there's a multitude of reasons why your name's on there."

I wish she hadn't have said that cause now I feel like crap. She lifts her toolbox and turns to leave. I reach out and grab her hand. "Wait, Truth. Please don't think I'm a, I mean I'm sorry that it sounded, I had no right to…"

She smiles and places a finger over my lips. "We're cool, Don. Don't blow a fuse."

"No." I say as I take her hand from my mouth. "I don't want us to be cool. I want us to be right. Especially coming from where I do, I have no right to judge anyone's past. And I'll try to see this endeavor for all its positives… even if being separated from my family is the hardest trade-off."

"It's not forever. You'll see them again. Hell, I'd like to meet 'em, when this is all over." She pats my face and walks to the exit. Turning back once more she says. "Say, handsome, you got any available sisters for me?"

I can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, Truth, all brothers and sisters are taken."

"Shame." She says as she walks off.

_What interesting people you've met in your life, Professor._

I smile, finish my meal and walk quietly back to the lab.

…

At the end of the day I head to the penthouse to have dinner with Sasha and Anya. I had told them I wouldn't be back until nine but I'm starving and I couldn't wait another two hours. As I get to the elevator, Anya walks out. Today she is wearing a hot-pink sweatshirt covered in rings of gold glitter and black, knitted leg warmers. I swear I have never seen her wear the same thing twice.

"Hello Anya. Where are you off to?" I ask.

"Hey, Donnie! I'm going to visit Nannie for my crochet lesson. Look." She pulls out a mound of tethered yarn from her bag and unfolds her project… I have no idea what it is. "It's the shawl I've been working on for Mother. I'm nearly halfway done. What do you think? Will she like it?"

I cock my head to the side. The poor thing is lop-sided and the lines aren't very straight… I wonder why it's so skinny on one end. She can't be good at everything. I smile and shrug. "I think it's a good start. And your mother will love it."

"Thanks… are you coming up now? No one has started cooking yet. I've just finished studying and Mother's been in her lab all day. You'll find her in there."

"Oh, it's ok. Maybe I should cook tonight. Do you have ingredients for stir fry?"

"Yes, we have vegetables and beef. I don't know if we have enough rice though. I'll make sure to pick some up before I leave Nannie, ok?"

"Ok, kiddo. See you later."

"Bye." Anya runs off and I head up.

…

Just as Anya said, I hear humming coming from Sasha's personal lab. I walk to the door and it silently slides open. I walk in and see a very worn-out-looking Sasha sitting on the open bed of the MRI machine shuffling through sheets of black plastic. She has not changed out of her sleepwear. She looks up at me and jumps, dropping one of the black, plastic sheets to the floor.

"Sorry, Sasha, I didn't mean to scare you." I say as I reach for the sheet and pick it up.

"Thank you." She says quickly and tries to take the sheet from my hand.

Something catches my eye. I push her away and I notice her fidget. She opens her mouth to say something but decides not to. I hold the dark film up to the light and turn it this way and that to figure out what I am looking at. It looks like the silhouette of a brain but there are a few tiny holes in the image. I look at her and frown. Her arms are folded about her. I march over to her and rip away the rest of the MRI scans. She says my name but I ignore her. I put them in order by date and I see that the gray mass is slowly disappearing into blackness. I flip through them over and over, studying the dates and progression. My face feels like it's sitting in front of a furnace. I take a deep breath and look at her. She's staring at me, eyes wide and she's swaying from side to side.

"What is this?" I say hardly above a whisper.

She purses her lips tightly to stop them from quivering. She shakes her head as tears form in her reddening eyes.

"Are you serious?" Was I asking her or was I asking God? I feel like my legs are sinking into the floor. I hold on to a table and ground myself. It's suddenly hard to breathe. I am fuming! "This is your brain! You've… been taking scans of yourself… following the disease's progress… It's already happening to you…"

She just looks at me as a single tear falls.

"What else have you been lying about? When we first met you told me that you never lie!"

"I told you that I pride myself by telling the truth. That doesn't mean I don't lie."

"Then no more lies, Sasha! Tell me the whole truth! Why am I REALLY here?"

"It's like I told you, to make Protagen."

"For who?"

She doesn't answer.

I step up right in front of her. "It's not for you! Look at this!" I force the slide of her decaying brain in her face. "I can't find a cure for this! Or this! Or this!" I'm throwing the slides all over the place, not caring where they land. "I'm not God, Sasha! Even if I formulate Protagen tomorrow, an ample dose won't help you!" With my hands empty of slides and grab her shoulders. "If I can't save you… then what's the point?" My voice almost fails.

Is she shaking, or am I?

"It's for Anya! It's always been for Anya…" She sobs. "You provided half of the DNA for Anya when she was born a natural turtle. But the mutagen was laced with the human DNA of my mother… that's what my father wanted, that's why she has my mother's eyes… and our hereditary disease. Anya has Fatal Familial Insomnia sleeping within her genes. Whether or not her mutation will advance it or delay it, she WILL have it. She WILL succumb to FFI… just as I am now."

I shake my head. I don't know what to say or do. Sasha… my dear doctor is at the threshold of the advanced stages of FFI. "Are you still sleeping? Has the… insomnia…"

"I have not slept in two days." She says flatly.

God, no…She's so young, too young. And now Anya, too, has that aggressive, terminal disease stalking inside of her. Still holding Sasha's shoulders, I nod my head, affirmed in my decision. "I will find the cure. I will not let this happen."

"Good, because now you're not just doing this for your freedom… you're doing it because you care about Anya."

"Who said I didn't care when it was just you?"

She tries to step back but I don't let her. She looks into my eyes and whispers. "You did."

_I did. But that was before…_

"You know why I said that. I didn't know you. I placed the blame of loosing my brother on you!" I try to push her away but my hands won't let her go… so I just pull her into me. It seems like a logical thing to do. I couldn't get away from her so I just brought her closer. I think the gesture surprises us both. "Of course I care, Sasha. You've never given me a reason not to." I feel her soft frame relax against me and I can't help relish the sensation of how good this feels. _How did I survive so long without having this?_ "I have to find a cure, or else Anya won't have a mother."

Sasha buries her head under my chin and grabs the sleeves of my shirt. "She'd have you… wouldn't she?"

I look out into her lab, my mouth hanging open. I can't answer her so I just hug her a bit tighter. I'm scared and comforted by how close she is to me. To think, that someday soon, I may want to hold her again like this and she won't be here. Anya may someday have a question that only her mother can answer and she won't be there. This is not right. I have… I will do something about this. I know that I should run to the lab and start working right away… But I want to keep her like this, just a few moments more.

…

**A/N: Oh no! Poor Sasha! Poor Donnie! WWWHHHYYYY?! What do you think of their tragic situation? Any thoughts?**


	13. The Trials

A/N: I just wanted to take a few bytes to say thank you to those of you who have commented so far. It is much appreciate and very encouraging. Thank you to those who are reading this and the three pre-fics (prefix lol) that go along with this story. And a special thanks to **dondena** and **Lydja-chan **for multiple comments. One thing I'd like to clear up... when I had mentioned that Donnie had 'mates' I meant 'teammates', his bros. Thanks again!

...

...

The next week is a difficult one. It's as if Sasha telling me that she is now entering the fourth and final stage of FFI has unlocked the disease upon her in full force. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. I tend to watch her more, assess her mental state by how her physical functions are slowing down ever so slightly. I don't know how much is reality and how much is just my mind playing tricks on me. She's drifting away slowly and it's driving me insane. I try very hard to balance my time in the lab and my time with her and Anya… Anya doesn't seem to notice anything different. Not yet. Toward the end of the week, however, I watch Sasha head toward the elevator to go home to her quarters and she just stands at the open door. I ask her what the problem is, why she won't walk in the elevator. She looks back me and says. 'I can't. It's full of water and I'd drown.' All I can do is stand there with her until the hallucination passes. After I walk her to her bedroom and watch her fall asleep, hoping she is sleeping, I sit with Anya in her room until she cries herself to sleep. I march straight to my own room and cry bitterly. This is why Sasha wanted me to hate her. This is why she said what she did. This is what happens when you get too close to people. You get hurt. And I'm the one to blame.

_God, I can't loose two people I love in such a short amount of time!_

_Love? Great, it's happening to me too_.

I push myself up and sit on the edge of my bed. I begin to think about my brothers again. I think about Raphael and how he warred within himself about his feelings for Amber. It was, at times, painful to watch him go through the process. Yet, the rest of us were enamored, hopeful and anxious. And when it finally happened, a new part of life suddenly became open to all of us.

It's quite obvious that Michelangelo and Arimi were made for each other. Whatever the reason the 'powers that be' had in wanting a mutant turtle and a Japanese girl to find one another and fall in love, we may never know. But love came, yet again.

And what about Leo? It's been… almost a three months since it happened. The first thing I'm going to do when I get home is search all things historic for him. Something tells me that Hamato Leonardo wouldn't, so quietly, disappear into the wrinkles of time.

_And what of you, Donatello? What will you make of your story? Once you find the vaccine for Protagen will you even want to go home? You could stay here with Sasha and Anya and have access to all of the latest technological toys, see the world, become as famous as Sasha says you could be._

That would be nice.

_Is that what you really want? You dreamer! You know, deep down inside that she won't last that long. So what are you going to do to make it easier for everyone?_

I know exactly what I should do. I look over at the coffee maker Truth installed in my room and smile. Might as well get back to work.

…

The next week goes a bit better. I sit down and explain my method to both Sasha and Anya. "Ok ladies. This is what we're going to do. "I hand them each a tablet of paper with written instructions. "The plan is to keep you exercising mentally. The goal is… longevity." Sasha nods, understandingly and Anya nods as well, flipping through her pad. "Sasha, every time you meet someone here in the facility, whether it's once a day or ten times a day I want you to greet them in this way…"

I turn my attention to Anya. "I know who you are. You are Anya Jordan Gavnikov, a mutant turtle girl. You are my Internet student. I am your Internet tutor. You are very smart… and dear to my heart." I smile at Anya, meaning every word I say. She shyly smiles back and looks at her mother.

"Mother, do you understand?" She says. "Here, I'll do you… I know who you are. You are Sasha Jordan Gavnikov, a beautiful woman. You are my mother. I am your daughter. You are a horrible cook but I love you anyway." Anya grins as she sticks her tongue playfully between her gap.

Sasha laughs and rubs her nose against the girl's ridge. "Ok. I got it. I know who you are…"

"No Mother, Donnie already did me. You do him!" Anya instructs.

"Oh." She looks over at me, a little unsure. "I know who you are. You are Hamato Donatello, a mutant turtle. You are my… friend? I am your… friend. You love coffee a lot and are a very… patient individual."

"Mother, the last thing you're supposed to say is what Donnie MEANS to you." Anya smiles and shakes her head at her mother's fumblings.

I can tell that Sasha isn't too far gone to realize what her daughter is trying to do but she still looks at me, at a loss for words.

"It's ok Anya. I think your mother gets the idea." Sasha huffs in relief and I continue. "These statements, as you say them, should keep your denotative, connotative, institutional, relational and emotional connections strong. If repeating these things all day starts to get boring, that means you are doing just fine. It would also be best to let someone know where you are going at all times… and not to be afraid to narrate your actions as you do them… and…" I say as I reach over and touch her hand. "Don't be afraid to tell me if you have pain or if… you see something strange."

She nods and then looks through her note pad.

"There are some simple and fun mind games in there, just to keep you limber. Also I would like you to write down your thoughts at the end of each day. Try to jot down your sleeping pattern and duration." I say.

I turn to Anya again. "Ok kiddo, your job is at the end of each day; ask your Mom what she ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Ask her to count to one-hundred, ask her to say her alphabet backwards…"

"In English or in Russian?" Anya asks.

"Both. I need you to quiz her on everyday trivia. I left a lot of blank space there. I'm sure you can come up with some pretty daring things. Will you do this for her?"

"Yes, sir." She says and she starts to noodle on the paper.

_Sir… I've never been called sir. Why did she say that… like she's been calling me that for years?_

I shake it off and stand. "I know you have a lot of other things to attend to Doctor. I will be in the main lab for the remainder of the day, should you need me."

"What about dinner?" Sasha and Anya ask in unison.

I smile, warmly I guess. "Of course. Let's make it another late dinner, nine?"

"Ok." They say.

"See you later, Donnie!" Anya says.

"Have a good day." Says Sasha.

The elevator doors close before me and I hesitate to push the button. That felt oddly satisfying, a mother and daughter wishing well to the 'man of the house' going off to work.

Dare to dream.

I press the button and descend.

…

I give it my all in the lab until my eyes cross. I skip lunch and Troy and I put our differences aside and work hard toward a cure. I had told him about Sasha's advanced state. He didn't say much after that. He did say that he was going to visit her, and I was alone in the lab for a couple of hours in the middle of the day. Troy comes back and we finish up at a quarter to nine. I feel Troy watching me as I walked down the hall toward the elevator. For a brief moment I wonder what he thinks about me getting so close to Sasha… if I'm just being a diligent doctor or a helpless fool.

I stand waiting for the elevator to come and Carder strides around the corner. I watch him as he stands in front of me, looking a bit uncomfortable, not knowing if he should keep his arms crossed or fold them behind his back. His dark shades may hide his eyes, but there is an apparent question formed over his face. The edges of his mouth pulls down and he clears his throat.

"Can I help you, Carder?"

"Just curious about a few things… Donatello…"

_Whoa he just said my full name!_ It came out like he was chewing on rocks but he DID finally call me by my name.

"What are you curious about?" I ask.

"I'm slightly perturbed by the fact that every time I'd gotten a call from Dr. Gavnikov for her to give me orders, she has the need to tell me that she knows who I am and how dear I am to her… you mind explaining?"

I tell him about Sasha's terminal condition in the most emotionally detached way possible.

"Hmm." Carder says thoughtfully. "Does Dr. Albright know this?"

"Yes, and I'm sure Truth and Devin have talked to either Sasha or Anya… I told Gleiv this morning in the rec-room."

Carder nods. "What do you plan on doing?"

"Well, I am committed to finding Protagen... I've decided to stay for as long as it takes… Anya needs the vaccine or…"

"I see." Carder says. He looks like he is deep in thought about something, quite possibly taking the news as badly as anyone else would.

The elevator door opens but I let it close. "Carder, did you know Dr. Perry a long time?"

"No, not too long. I met him a long time ago and only briefly."

"You must mean the Moscow mission?" I ask. "Gleiv told me that you were the pilot that flew them to safety."

"Did he now?" Carder huffs. "That kid is way too trustworthy. Just because it happened ten years ago, doesn't make it any less 'top secret'."

I shrug. "I happen to think it's a great thing you did and a big risk you took. If it weren't for you Anya wouldn't be here…

"I assure you I had nothing do to with the safe return of that infant turtle. That was all Gleiv's doing. The pilot just flies the plane after all."

"That maybe true, but you must have… well, maybe Dr. Perry just pays well."

Carder smirks. "You want to know why Perry put me on his list?"

I just look at him.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. "I know how to fly planes and I know how to keep my mouth shut. I also have special operative skills that Dr. Gavnikov decided to put to use in finding you. Dr. Perry was not a military man, he knew very few people in the ranks. I suppose he chose me because I was the only one he knew with my skills."

"So, you don't really have any social ties to the doctors… why were you giving me such a hard time?"

"It was my job to make sure you weren't like those other dangerous animals we found. Some of them killed my men. Only Gleiv and I are left from the recon fold. I wasn't taking any chances with you, no matter how eloquent you presented yourself."

I nod. "I guess I understand. I hope I've proven you wrong."

He snorts and rubs his left arm. I see some black markings on his left bicep. He must see my eyes wander there and he lifts up his sleeve. It's a tattoo. "Who's Rex?" I ask.

"Rex… is my dog… was my dog."

"I suppose you're not the animal-hater I thought you were."

"One thing I always know for sure, people will surprise you, Donatello… see to it that you do what ever you can to keep Dr. Gavnikov comfortable. And do your best to find the vaccine to keep that dear little turtle girl healthy." He says.

"I will definitely do my best." I say feeling a bit creeped out by his sudden kindness.

"Have a good evening." Carder turns and walks away.

That wasn't weird at all. I guess grief affects people in different ways. I call the elevator and head up to the penthouse. Anya is at the bottom of the stairs, grasping the railing, crying her eyes out as Sasha throws her poorly-made shawl into the flames of the chrome fireplace. I run up to her and restrain her. She won't stop screaming about the wolves.

I pull her down to the floor with me and once she stops fighting, she comes back to herself and sobs against my arm. I rock her back and forth.

"I know who you are, Donnie. I do." Sasha strains.

Anya appears beside us. She delicately caresses the short dark tendrils of her mother's hair. "Shh… it's ok Mother. It's alright. I love you Mother…" She coos.

I reach out and hold Anya's hand. This must be such a heavy load to bear upon her little shoulders. I watch how angrily the flames consume Anya's gift to her mother. Soon the bright fibers turn to ash.

I stand and pick Sasha up. I carry her to her room. Anya holds onto my shell and follows close behind. I lay Sasha in her bed. She closes her eyes trying desperately to rest. It pains me that she can no longer become unconscious. Her mind needs to sleep, but it can't. Anya and I go to the kitchen and I heat up some leftovers; we both pick at our food. We go to her room and she falls asleep during the movie. I leave quietly and go to my own quarters. These tears won't let me go.

…

I open my eyes and my stomach sinks when I look at the time. When will this night end?

I sigh harshly and call out. "Andrew, contact Devin McGaff."

"One moment please… There is no answer; would you like to leave a message?"

"No." Figures, it's midnight, she's most likely asleep. "Can you tell me where Devin McGaff is?"

"Her data-pad is navigating within the kitchen. It is not turned on."

"When is the last time her device was charged?"

"Seven days ago."

I guess she's still not very tech-savvy in her 'advanced' age. I get out of bed and pull on some sweatpants and my favorite t-shirt (I never thought I'd have one of those) and head out. I make it to the dining hall in less than two minutes. There is a light on in the kitchen and I shuffle my feet so I don't startle her.

I see her sitting at a small table in the corner. She is peeling potatoes; doesn't seem to mind when the skins miss the waste basket and tumble into a growing pile by her feet on the floor. Her movements are slow and careful. She looks as though she's in a daze. I rinse my hands in the sink, then walk over to her and sit in the empty chair. I take the extra peeler and grab myself a potato.

Within the next twenty minutes of silence, I glance over at her. She looks peaceful and full of sorrow at the same time. I feel like if I ask her how she's doing, she'll start to cry. But maybe that's fitting. She looks like she's peeling onions anyway.

"This is what I do, Donnie, when my mind won't let me sleep." Devin finally says. The scraping of starchy skin plays in the background. "Been having more and more nights like these lately. I suppose the menu for the next few days won't be a surprise to you." It was a kind joke but neither of us laugh.

"I take a part the toaster and then put it back together when I can't sleep." I say.

The corner of her mouth curls slightly. "There's one right on the counter. I don't use it much, but you can have a go at it, if it helps."

"I think the potatoes are working for now."

We sit and peel until the basket is empty. I was actually enjoying the monotonous rhythm we had set, and now that the basket is barren I feel how quickly my troubles race for my attention. I hate this feeling. Devin removes the basket and kicks out a full one from under the table.

_Bless you, Ms. Devin._

Once we get into the second basket I feel more able to hold a conversation. "I have to admit that I was coming to find you so that I could 'cry on your shoulder', so to speak. I thought that if I could talk to anyone right now about how I'm feeling, it would be you. I don't know why, but I immediately knew why Dr. Perry trusted you."

"Hmm." She grins. "I hope I didn't disappoint, finding me tearing up over taters."

"Not at all… Thank you for letting me know that I'm not alone."

After a couple of more scrapes of potato skin Devin whispers. "She is going to die, isn't she?"

My hand stops mid-slide. I purse my lips and close my eyes. I look down and continue peeling. "We all have to go sometime… in her case, maybe much sooner than we would like."

"I am ninety-three years old, Donnie. I feel sixty-three. I've raised three generations of Gavnikovs, and now four with Anya… Can you imagine how it feels to outlive every child you've raised?" She rests her peeler in her lap and a half-stripped potato rolls to the floor. I kneel in front of her and take her trembling hands into mine. I grab a napkin from its holder and dab the meandering tears from her wrinkled face. She takes the napkin and my hand. "I've had fun in my day but never married… I never had any babes of my own… this is my family… all I have left… my little girls."

I can almost hear my heart crumble at the sound of her quiet weeping. I lower my head, ashamed at my own tears. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to do to save her. I really do. I'm sorry I've failed… Ow!"

I hold the back of my head, wincing at the pain. I look up at Devin, her shining eyes glare at me and her hand is raised to strike again. "Now you listen here! No one is to blame, especially you. In this bit of time you've given hope to all of us, and it weren't false hope. Now sit down and heed my words!"

I jump back into my chair and hide my hands between my knees.

"Look here."

I timidly look over at the now, domineering woman. I see how very capable she is at raising children.

"No one is going to blame you for how this ends unless you give up! You're not giving up on her already are you? She's still breathing, ain't she?"

"No, I mean yes. Both?" _God, please don't hit me again._

"Good! Now I want you to go get a good night's sleep and tomorrow, just do what you have been doing. You should try your best. If you give you're all, in the end, pray that you get what you've been looking for. You have to fight for what you want."

_Do what I have been, then do what I should, then do what I want. How did I forget so quickly?_

"Thank you Ms. Devin."

She cups my face and smiles so warmly. Even with her lip quivering, I see such strength within her. "You can thank me by making sure Anya… will be alright after all of this."

"I promise. Over my empty shell, I promise you."

"Good then." Still holding my face she adds. "You know she's in love with you."

"I know."

She lets me go and starts to clean up the shavings. She waves me off when I try to help. I head for the door when the old lady chirps. "I didn't mean Anya."

I was hoping she didn't.

…

**A/N: Oh! Little old Nannie McGaff! I love her! Smack some sense into Donnie! Any comments are appreciated!**


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